#my dearest lady

[thewillingpersephone]

I cannot believe I never noticed this before!

[sygneth]

just a bunch of doodles from the past weeks

figuring out how to draw them again

[jinbeshawaiianshirt]

Our fish daddy could finally snap my back with his hugs (I don’t know what the correct name is for that thing when, when you hug a person, something clicks in the body, usually in the back, and you begin to relax completely)

🍞 anon

he could fix me

[xxplastic-cubexx]

They finally did it everybody they said the thing!!!!!!!

"How much do you love Charles Xavier?"

"HOW DARE YOU ASK ME SUCH A QUESTION???!!!??!!?!!??!!??!!!"

HE SAID THE THING !!!!!!!!!!

[whenthegoldrays]

if I had a nickel for every mutual of mine whose Brand is a bird I would have three whole nickels

[yeo-rims]

You and I slipped and rolled down the mountain. Our clothes got ripped, and we bled. You never met a foreign intruder. I never killed anyone.

[violetsastrocytes]

lady hope howell everyone (ft. her red killer boots)

[groovybun-png]

Oooohhh mamaaaaa 😍😍😍

BRUH

[perilegs]

OC SMASH OR PASS

Rules: pretty self explanatory. include physical descriptions or pics, and propaganda. the “other” label can be used for “sexuality misalignment” (ie: oc is femme and you’re gay, vice versa or you aren’t into smashing but a specific thing you wanna do with them like perhaps hug or study them under a microscope idc).

i saw @dekarios do this and it looked fun so i wanted to make one too!

propaganda:

height: ati is elf height. short queen <33

age: around 20-22 in the beginning of origins

gender: woman

pronouns: she/her

sexuality: bi!

extra: she's trans

ati is pretty cocky and has far too much self-confidence for her own good. she likes keeping things casual and isn't very open with her feelings. she's got experience in one night stands and she likes trying new things so you'd be in good hands :3c you can check her tag if you need more info before deciding

[thewillingpersephone]

from Glory of the Losers Volume 12

[wiishopchanelboots]

The Desperate Man, Gustave Courbet - 1843

Mommie Dearest, Faye Dunaway - 1981

Applause, Lady Gaga - 2013

The Witness, Love Death and Robots - 2019

[kittie-blues]

You say it amazes you how good I am with words,

But sweetheart, without you, I’d have forgotten them entirely.

Most tell me I have a way with language,

And perhaps I do—for you see,

My mind was shaped by love songs

And the musings of the eccentric:

From Shakespeare’s passion to Poe’s dark soul,

And now the madness of Kafka, my newest muse.

For there must be a touch of chaos within

To write beyond the edges of what’s known.

I’ve never fit the mold, never walked the line,

Knowing more than I should, yet struggling to share it.

These words are only fragments

Reflections of the infinite universe in my mind.

If only you could see the half of it,

The wonder, the longing, the questions unanswered.

To share these thoughts with you

Would be a gift, if you’d only allow it.

For all I want, my love, is nothing more,

Nothing less,

Than to wander through this strange,

Beautiful thing called life with you.

[lethalitisms]

[[ i gotta remember to put stuff that i want to reblog in my drafts because i just remembered the cutest artwork of eddie kissing his bicep and then the symbiote pops out and he kisses it and i need it bad it's so goddamn cute ]]

[thesomewhatliterateaxolotl]

Okay last spooky oneshot let's go!! A very short snippet featuring Lady B & Wagahai. Only CW I can think of is blood. Also this one's for the ghost prompt on @ginasusahao's prompt list.

Wagahai's humans each have their scent: earthy from the water-like liquid they call "tea,"; soapy like the shampoo Wagahai hates being bathed with; stranger scents from bubbling and swirling liquids in glass vials. The drifting lady, the one none of her humans seem to notice, has no scent. She doesn't even smell like blood, even though it drips from her mouth and her hands, drying under her fingernails. She doesn't smell like dogs, either, even though a bloodhound follows at her heels.

The first time Wagahai saw the dog, her fur stood up on end and she hissed like death. It gave the smallest of her humans a fright, and the bigger ones had had to crowd around her. Wagahai is a proud cat, and she shudders to remember that time.

She still doesn't trust the dog, but the lady makes her feel safe. She has the same eyes and habits as the little one. She favours the same velvety swivel chair and, just like her, hums like a chickadee.

One day, the lady sits in the chair, humming. Her face quirks in the way humans' faces do when they're content.

It's quite a pretty, starry night, and Wagahai feels just the same. She blinks at the lady to let her know, and—oh, she is like the little one! She's blinking back!

Wagahai trots up to her and climbs into her lap.

A noise of surprise. "Oh! Hello, sweet. Waggy, is it…?"

Waggy purrs, nuzzling the human's (is she human?) arm.

"Iris adores you…"

The lady's dress, though softer than any blanket Wagahai has ever touched, is cool. It's oddly soothing—like resting on a cloud, a notion that's crossed her mind often when she yearns at the window. Up close, Wagahai can see the bloodstains on the lady's person, too. Humans are more delicate than even mice, but this one isn't injured. No; the tips of her canines, her sharp fingernails—that's where the blood is freshest. It's an unusual sight on humans, but it's familiar, a tinge of something shared.