#i did good

[hintako]

some more tfp starscream!! his waist my GOSh-

[plumadot]

MOSS SMOOTHIE BAR GOES BRRRRRR

[orpheus-lament]

'Cause someone loved me, someone fucking loved me Someone fucking loved me, I loved them too

[screwusernames27]

Ngl he came out looking GOOD. This one is def for the Yamato girlies out there

[alexandor]

I had a really nice day today

[strawxbunny]

i wanna be praised :( all things considered i think i did pretty good today

[cara-the-yiga-footsoldier]

A bit of a trigger warning with the second image if you don't like blood, but I really like how I drew her and it's my first time ever really using blood lol

I think I did really well on this one! It only took 2 hours surprisingly

[glamphantasm]

OMxWhumptober 15

I got behind again >.> would like to say I'm busy, but that's a big fat lie - I'm just suffering lazy bitch mode.

Simeon’s room in Purgatory Hall, though it had always been a sanctuary of light, felt faintly like a mausoleum tonight. The incense, usually a comfort, hung too thick in the air, clinging to him like unwanted memory. The candles flickered weakly, casting trembling, distorted shadows across the space, as if the darkness itself was breathing—alive and waiting. He stood before the mirror, where his reflection gazed back, unchanged and fundamentally altered, the very air around him rippling with quiet menace.

He was still beautiful. That was the most unsettling part. His skin, flawless and burnished, seemed untouched by the corruption he felt growing beneath. His eyes, once the tranquil blue of untouched lagoons, held a light that flickered between divine and something else—something unsettling, more ancient than divinity. It was as if the universe itself was staring back at him through his own gaze, whispering secrets not meant for an angel’s ears. There was a crack in the mirror, thin as a hair, and in that faint distortion, he saw the truth lurking beneath the surface. He touched his face, his fingers ghosting over skin that felt as though he no longer belonged to it – in it. The pulse beneath his fingertips was steady, the warmth still there, and yet… something shifted beneath it. Not visibly, not grotesquely. This was something deeper, the land shifting beneath a calm sea, threatening to disrupt everything in its wake. The darkness wasn’t outside. It was him, growing slowly, clinging and disruptive, roots spreading through cobblestone. Simeon let out a breath, his gaze dropping as his hands worried the edges of his cloak. “But I did good, didn’t I?” The thought slid through his mind like prayer once had, desperate and clinging, though no answer came. The truth lay in the silence that followed, in the stillness that cocooned him. He had tried. He had believed. Despite it all, the certainty he had once held was unraveling, delicate threads of faith slipping through his fingers, dissolving like mist. He sank into an overstuffed chair, the velvet cool against his skin, though even this familiar comfort felt prickling and alien. His body, still graceful, still powerful, moved with a strange tension, something unseen holding him back, coiling within. It wasn’t pain, not in the way he would have expected. It was an ache, subtle and profound, a sense of being slowly undone from the inside. Each trembling breath he took felt as though it might be his last moment of clarity before the inevitable descent into something he couldn’t yet name.

The thought slid through his mind like prayer once had, desperate and clinging, though no answer came. The truth lay in the silence that followed, in the stillness that cocooned him. He had tried. He had believed. Despite it all, the certainty he had once held was unraveling, delicate threads of faith slipping through his fingers, dissolving like mist. He sank into an overstuffed chair, the velvet cool against his skin, though even this familiar comfort felt prickling and alien. His body, still graceful, still powerful, moved with a strange tension, something unseen holding him back, coiling within. It wasn’t pain, not in the way he would have expected. It was an ache, subtle and profound, a sense of being slowly undone from the inside. Each trembling breath he took felt as though it might be his last moment of clarity before the inevitable descent into something he couldn’t yet name. The room, with its soft colors and carefully placed decoration was a space designed for peace, for contemplation, but it suffocated him now with its order, its refusal to acknowledge the chaos within him. The shadows clung to the corners, pooling in places where light should have reached. Everything here remained untouched by the change that crept through him, and the space felt warped, as though it recognized what he refused to admit. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes against the dim light, searching for solace in the dark. There was none to be found. Instead, behind his eyelids, there were flickers, faint, the murmur of a distant storm, low and insistent. It called to him, but the words were just out of reach. Perhaps that was for the best. To hear them would mean accepting what they said. “I did good, didn’t I?” The question returned, soft and shaking. Had he? Was his refusal to act, his loyalty to a flawed ideal, truly the right path? The doubt, once a tiny crack in his resolve, had widened, and now it felt like the chasm itself was collapsing in on him, piece by piece. His greatest failure wasn’t in what he had done. It was in what he hadn’t done. Standing by as Lucifer led the war, watching as everything fell apart, all the while clinging to the hope that he was on the right side of history—those were the choices that had brought him here. Luke’s face flickered through his mind like a cruel, rusted hook. The boy, innocent and full of unwavering faith, had always looked to him for guidance. What would he think now? The thought of Luke feeling the disillusionment that Simeon now lived with, struck a chord of pain so deep it nearly choked him. He had been a beacon – now nothing more than a crumbling monument to a faith that Simeon no longer truly felt. The weight of the realization disintegrated what little was left of his denial, his resolve. He opened his eyes again, unable to bear his thoughts any longer. The mirror’s crack seemed deeper now, spreading slowly, almost imperceptibly, across the glass. His reflection was still beautiful, still serene, but now there was a shadow there too, lurking just beneath the surface, waiting to reveal itself. The shadow wasn’t some external force. It was him. It had always been him. The realization made a cold coil of nausea curl in his stomach.

The darkness had been a part of him all along, growing in the spaces he refused to acknowledge. His loyalty to the Celestial Realm had been rooted in denial, in fear of what would happen if he dared to look too closely at the fraying edges of Paradise. He had watched Lucifer fight, watched the others fall with him, all the while holding himself apart, as if that would keep him safe – a decision he had regretted from the moment they were banished. There was no safety, no sanctuary left. This transformation wasn’t a punishment. It was truth. He rose slowly, his movements still as graceful as ever, though the gravity of the change pressed against him like an invisible hand, urging him to let go of everything he once knew. The room felt smaller now, tighter, as if the very walls were closing in. The air thickened, laden with the scent of old incense, but beneath that, something more – a faint, sickly sweet decay that spoke of endings. The mirror caught his gaze again, and this time he didn’t look away. His reflection, still beautiful, still unbroken on the surface, was only a mask. Behind it, something was shifting, slowly, a star collapsing, devoured by it’s own shadow. The thought should have terrified him, but it didn’t. It was simply a truth, one that had been waiting for him all along. Lucifer’s voice echoed in his mind, soft, almost kind in its clarity, despite the intervening ages. Perhaps his brother had been right. Perhaps Simeon’s refusal to acknowledge the truth had always been his downfall. The darkness wasn’t something to be feared. It was something to be understood – embraced. “But I did good, right?”

The thought slipped through once more, fragile as a breath, and this time, it didn’t fade into silence. Simeon turned from his reflection, the truth settling over him like a shroud. With each step, the darkness within him stirred like a slow-moving current beneath the surface of a still lake. He was falling, yes, but not in the way he had once feared. There was no grotesque transformation, no outward disfigurement, only the subtle, inevitable shifting of who he had always been. And perhaps, in that, there could be a kind of redemption. This was understanding a new kind of existence, where light and shadow intertwined in ways he had never allowed himself to see. There was a haunting grace to it all – a splendor that left him trembling with a dread delight he could not name.

[beatheprincess]

Did a phone interview today (legit on the phone for a half n hour back to back) my first time doin this😭 I hate being on the phone n I was so nervous it was prob unprofessional smhh. I hope to continue the process in better spirits ..for now weekend time ♡

[mids-stupid-shit]

I was thinking of this song when drawing this

[aintnobodysbusinessifido]

Taking pictures instead of working out 🥴

[fainfrumos]

it's a diferent kinda wholesome when you can reasure boomers they did a good job in their life as parents, even though they were not your parents, Cartagena [02.12.23]

[pookiboom]

Is it good or bad trans rep if nobody clocked my trans npc in a 10 month campaign?

[greyaugust]

my photos app showed me a picture of my apartment from eight years ago and it's absolutely wild that eight years ago i had no hot water and i was getting drunk on cheap wine almost every night and now here i am painting murals on every wall of my apartment that i own this is so wild

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

I knew I’d need this so I saved it.

Good job, Murda. Even if you did make your tongue bleed.

[keyofjetwolf]

One of my major tasks in the last couple of weeks was getting everything set for End of Year processing, which had the additional quirk of 1 January falling on a Sunday, so the bank was observing it on the 2nd, and so a bunch of business rules and logic and blah blah etc. Not the point of the post.

The point of the post is that my boss just reported transactions over the holiday went off without a hitch and “It was my quietest New Years since I started.”

TAKING AT LEAST PARTIAL CREDIT FOR THIS FEELING VERY PLEASED WITH THE GENERAL IDEA OF ME IN THIS MOMENT