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I couldn't ... I couldn't stop myself.... I had to make another one

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Hiiiiiiii I made art

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THE SANDMAN

2.05 The Song of Orpheus

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MORPHEUS THROUGH THE AGES

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i miss my emo husband 😞

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Why is he so sassy tho????

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Man every year around my birthday I get really depressed and you're telling me this year MERCURY WILL START RETROGRADE?! 😭😭😭 will I ever catch a break??

2025 Witches' Calendar

January 13 ● Full Moon in Cancer (Wolf Moon) January 29 ● New Moon in Aquarius February 2 ● Imbolc February 12 ● Full Moon in Leo (Snow Moon) February 27 ● New Moon in Pisces March 14 ● Full Moon in Virgo (Worm Moon) March 15-April 7 ● Mercury Retrograde March 20 ● Ostara March 29 ● New Moon in Aries April 12 ● Full Moon in Libra (Pink Moon) April 27 ● New Moon in Taurus May 1 ● Beltane May 12 ● Full Moon in Scorpio (Flower Moon) May 26 ● New Moon in Gemini June 11 ● Full Moon in Sagittarius (Strawberry Moon) June 20 ● Litha June 25 ● New Moon in Cancer July 10 ● Full Moon in Capricorn (Buck Moon) July 18-August 11 ● Mercury Retrograde July 24 ● New Moon in Leo August 1 ● Lammas August 9 ● Full Moon in Aquarius (Corn Moon) August 23 ● New Moon in Leo September 7 ● Full Moon in Pisces (Harvest Moon) September 21 ● New Moon in Virgo September 22 ● Mabon October 6 ● Full Moon in Aries (Hunter's Moon) October 21 ● New Moon in Libra October 31 ● Samhain November 5 ● Full Moon in Taurus (Beaver Moon) November 9-November 29 ● Mercury in Retrograde November 20 ● New Moon in Scorpio December 4 ● Full Moon in Gemini (Cold Moon) December 19 ● New Moon in Sagittarius December 21 ● Yule

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His emo looks and loser behaviour got me 😍

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no matter how terrible my day is. i can always end my day in bed imagining fictional characters making out sloppy style and fucking raw. and that's beautiful. there's some good in this world mister frodo and it's worth fighting for

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I would let him bite me with this look 🩸

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Prettiest emo boy gone too soon 🖤

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Quite possibly the best answer.

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I don't feel like I ask too much. All I want is to be posted, praised verbally for the good things I do and how pretty I am, and maybe some flowers every once in a while. And I can't even get that on Valentine's Day or national gfs day. Even after begging day in and day out for flowers (Giant sells half a dozen roses for $6) I don't even get that for a holiday. $6 for knee high socks being made out to be too expensive like there's a tight budget when really spending has been cut back in other aspects to save money AND there's money saved. I'm not asking for a car. Or a house. Or a tattoo or piercing. Just flowers. A book. A new blouse bought from a thrift store. A handwritten note. Verbal praise. A post about how I'm loved. Why do I have to beg? Why do I have to cry and break down in order to be seen, but only so it can be used against me? I'm so incredibly tired.

This is exactly why I'm a maladaptive daydreamer. Why I read and write so much fanfiction. Why I lose myself in shows and movies and books. Because with fiction I can pretend everything is fine. I can mold the world to be exactly how I need it to be so I can feel full and warm without having to beg for it.

I'm so. Frustrated. Though that seems like an understatement at this point. No matter what I do, where I go, who I'm with, I'm begging for something at some point. All of my life has been begging and pleasing, screaming and clawing in the back of my mind, trying to fight to get what I want. In one aspect or another. I can spell it out a million times, cry again and again, and it still does not fucking land. The bar is so low. So low. And somehow it keeps getting missed.

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I'm so. Frustrated. Though that seems like an understatement at this point. No matter what I do, where I go, who I'm with, I'm begging for something at some point. All of my life has been begging and pleasing, screaming and clawing in the back of my mind, trying to fight to get what I want. In one aspect or another. I can spell it out a million times, cry again and again, and it still does not fucking land. The bar is so low. So low. And somehow it keeps getting missed.

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The First Damned.

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I was at a bookstore looking through the art section and I saw a spine that said The Camden Town Nudes which was interesting because this didn’t seem like the bookstore where I would ever find something like that and I wanted to have a casual look but like. This also wasn’t exactly the bookstore where you felt like you could look at naked pictures let alone just suggestive paintings of them, it’s a really small shop as well, so I was like right I’ll just take a quick peek, I’m an art student, I love history, maybe I’ll buy it. I looked both ways and saw the shopkeep had left momentarily and no one was about, so I opened it and found it was an entire book featuring nude Edwardian women all painted by Walter Sickert between 1905-1912 and it was actually quite a revolutionary set of paintings for its time given that it featured very raw depictions of working class nude women in dark London instead of the elegant, white bedsheet clad, Demure middle and upper class women usually depicted.

And of course RIGHT as I flip to this lady’s boobs practically taking up an entire double page spread, every customer in a 5 mile radius appeared from around the corners of the shelf including the shopkeep and immediately regressing to a wet, pathetic Edwardian man from 1908, startled, I dropped the large book which caused a giant SLAP on the floor in this already silent store thus causing all patrons to look down at me scrambling on my knees to close a giant book of Edwardian boobs and let me tell you it would not have been nearly as funny had I not immediately felt like some Edwardian local pervert who just tried to sneak a cheeky peek at the erotic book in the bookstore only to drop it dramatically causing a scene, red up to his ears trying to shove it back on the shelf. Like such a casual and normal thing in modern day but looking at Edwardian women suddenly turned it into this egregious act as I apparently became possessed by the spirit of a moustached man in a bowler hat and morning coat going Good Heavens I mustn’t gaze upon these images in public lest the constable haul me away!