#BUT NOW I AM PAIN

[caffeinatedopossum]

Me when I remember something I said ages ago that was wrong or my values no longer align with

[post-grammatic-stress]

If you've ever told a person who's had to be bedbound for a period of time that you wish you could "just stay in bed", DO IT.

Stay in bed. For days. But don't get up if someone needs you to, or you get bored, or you get antsy. Don't do anything other than rest. Just lie in your bed, whether you need to get stuff done around the house or socialize or anything else "productive". You'll have to cancel on people, you'll disappoint them, they won't understand.

And if you're thinking, "well, i CAN'T just be in bed. There's stuff that has to be done - I have plans", maybe ask yourself why you assumed a disabled person doesn't have plans or things to do or desires.

[castielspelvis]

Just finished a hike. Wore my chacos because I still have an ingrown toenail. The Chacos I have have a rough surface on the top obviously to keep your grip…. However, my feet are not used to that and now I’m gonna have blisters allllllll over.

But it was a beautiful morning. Not a breeze in site though for most of it. I’m gonna die now.

[hinamie]

unconditionally

[maelicgrn]

Self-indulgent showtime sketches

[mobius-m-mobius]

#obsessed with their priorities

[lilybug-02]

Pain is a great motivator…

Part 26 || First || Previous || Next

—Full Series—

Meanwhile Toriel:

(Loud noises don't wake her up usually.)

Artist note: I’m so proud of this :))) I know it’s a lot of dialogue and reading, but dialogue is grueling work for me. I’m glad with the art and for the amount of pages I made in such a relatively short time span -w- page 5 was super fun to work on. A lot of blood, sweat, and hours here... :) The backgrounds were a big bore tbh, but I finished them! Yippie!

[yaoiconnoisseur]

Astarion ‘has never had wholesome intimacy’ Ancunin vs Gale ‘none of these thoughts are in the bible’ Dekarios

[betsybugaboo]

good: i found out that there are actually six more volumes of Black Jack that I haven't read because I am a dumbass and didn't realize that what there is on the Internet Archive isn't the complete series I also got to go to the beach

bad: i am now 90% sunburn, every movement is agony

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

finally at that age where i'm thinking i should get a tattoo. not bc i feel strongly about it, just seems like a waste not to. i've got so much skin i'm not using

[cabi-leodrann]

Picked up watercolor again, after not doing anything with it for years lol Pretty happy with how it turned out!

Anyway, Cult of the Lamb fanart- because it lives rent free in my head. Specifically the Lamb/Narinder ship. I live for this ship, I do not know why. It just scratches my brain like very fiew ship can.

[andromeda-aim]

Finished persona5 royal with a friend and i'm continually losing my shit over how much the game hammers home to the player that Akechi's life is the most persuasive bargaining chip that Maruki had to convince Akira to accept his false reality. Beyond the lives his friends were living, nothing changes for him. His family never apologies for sending him away, his classmates still make snide comments about his criminal record, not to mention this is still a world that had him tortured and nearly killed in an interrogation room not too long ago. His life is virtually identical, which can imply that Akira has made peace with what has happened to him. None of that changing would ultimately give him his happy ending or ideal world. Akechi being alive is what gives Akira his happy ending, the person who a literal fucking god of control pitted against him. Because at the end of the day, Akechi doesn't see him as the delinquent with a criminal record, or the savior leader of the phantom thieves. Akira is the product of a cruel unjust game, like himself, strung along by happenstance. Neither boys became strong because they wanted to, this world molded them into weapons to fight each other and see who could make a victim of the other. Akira needs Akechi for his ideal world because to look at Akechi bleeding out in Shido's palace, hear his ragged breathing from the other side of that wall, and pause, is to realize that it could have been him there instead. Which is to say, "I am thou, and thou art I."

[tea-cat-arts]

Shen Yuan getting transported into pidw isn't "the system punishing him for being a lazy internet hater," but instead representative of "step 1 of the creative process: getting so mad at something you decide to go write your own fucking book" in this essay I will

[gardenofnoah]

“you’re going to hurt yourself like that, my love.”

you startle at the voice over you, having been nearly asleep.

“—uh?”

you turn your head to see Nanami looming over your side of the bed. if you were fully conscious, you would see the tiny look of mischief in his eyes as they roam your body, but you’re not, so you take it as his tendency to mother hen you.

and then he’s pushing you to the middle of the bed despite your whining, climbing in beside you. you try to settle in and find you’re still being moved—he’s on his back, shuffling himself down the bed and pulling one of your legs over his chest. you feel him turn his face into your belly in a move that feels suspiciously like nuzzling.

“what’re y’doin,” you slur, a little petulant at being woken up like this, despite it being well past the time you meant to rejoin the living and despite your own desire to seek out the warmth he’s emitting next to you.

“you’re going to hurt your hip, laying like that,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. he runs a hand up the back of your thigh and over your hip, and you sigh a little bit, comforted by the feeling of him.

“i don’t know how you sleep like that,” he continues, absentmindedly dragging his fingers over your skin, making you shiver every now and then.

“feels good,” you grumble, face shoved into the pillow. talking about your bizarre sleeping position and maybe also the way the rough pads of his fingers leave a trail of warmth in their wake. you think you hear him chuckle softly, and you feel him press a kiss to the skin of your belly, right above the hem of your sleep shorts.

it’s soft, chaste—and then it’s not, and you suck in a breath when you feel him kiss you there again, feeling the tip of his tongue drag along the skin that stretches over your hip bone.

and evidently he hears your sharp inhale, because you feel a strong arm sneak around your lower back, pulling you closer to him.

“was still sleeping, you know,” but it’s lost all of its bite and you’re a little breathless now, fixated on the way his free hand slides up the back of your thigh to brush over the sensitive spot just under the curve of your ass.

“go to sleep then,” he says into the soft of your belly, pressing another kiss, opening his mouth a little wider to catch the skin of it between his teeth. he’s turned into you now, and despite yourself, you drag your leg up from his chest so it’s over his shoulder.

he moves to rest his head against your thigh that’s trapped underneath him, and distantly you think that it is more comfortable like this— his head squeezed between your legs having alleviated some of the pressure against your hip from laying on your side. that thought quickly becomes muddled in your head when you feel him latch on to the skin of your inner thigh that rests against his face.

you whine, hips bucking weakly as you squirm under tongue and teeth—both leaning into and trying to get away from the sting of his bite.

“my sweet love,” he coos, running his tongue over the fresh bruise, placating you. you shiver, pressing your face further into the pillow to try to breathe—to ground yourself despite the heat that curls up your spine. he stops, then, and you peak down at him to find that he’s staring back up at you.

“hi,” you whisper, fighting another shudder at the way his lips pull at the corners into a smirk that looks absolutely sinful on him.

“good morning,” he drawls, deep and far too awake. he rests his chin in the space between your hips, pressing a quick kiss above your pubic bone. your hips buck toward him a tiny bit, and his smirk widens when he feels it.

you bring a hand down to run it through his hair, tangling in the blond strands and scratching at his scalp. he closes his eyes and hums, deep in his chest, nuzzling into your thigh. it makes you smile, and it makes you ache.

“want you, ken,” you murmur, squeezing him gently between your thighs and reveling in the groan he lets out.

“i know, sweetheart,” he coos, hands coming up again to grope whatever skin he can reach and pressing a tiny kiss through your shorts, “i can smell you.”

[exhausted-undead]

they're done. holy shit they're done

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Average Drama Enjoyer observes some peak drama.