#nah i am not

[m00neroni]

look at him right in the eye.

he is a bottom with a breeding kink who loves being pregnant

[disgustinggf]

i may not be the prettiest or the smartest or the funniest but i sure am the sleepiest

[strangepersonhere]

Being aroace is so cool, but so, so hard sometimes. Watching all the persons you hold dear finding *their* person. Grieving the idea of an allo relationship. Realizing that, maybe, somehow, you're the second choice fo everyone. Because friends are great, but **lovers** are the goal in our society.

Most of the time, i am sooo happy to be aroace. And then, when im alone in bed, at 3 am, i find myself crying by fear of being alone.

And I think it's normal. It's grieving a certain way of thinking. And it's hard, especially when you were raised this way, and that everyone keeps doubting your identity.

So yeah. Shout-out to all the aroace people, wanting a deeper connection, without wanting romantic love.

I love y'all

[samyazasheaven]

Speaking in the third person... AM -- which is I -- AM is satisfied with the sacrifice. He -- that is to say, I -- will spare the village his -- that is to say, my -- wrath for today. I have -- as I said before -- spoken.

(black and white version under the cut)

[itsthislake]

“Icarus.”

it's all about freedom really

Credit goes to An Sifakah for the poem. Enjoy!

Support me on Ko-fi maybe?

[jibberjibbsart]

Oh to be the Hero of Hyrule

[skyrigel]

Simon had him and you all convinced that it was just sex and nothing more.

“No attachment.” He always said, everytime — sometimes so hurried and forgotten that it's just mumbled against your mouth before he's shoving his tongue down your throat.

Sometimes with so much urgency that it's lost between your moans, no attachment, babe, no attachment. And you believed him because it was really just sex, wasn't it ? There were no pretty dates and no fancy dinner at ritz, maybe those poorly wrapped ones he pretended he had not ordered and takeouts he brought along...but oh please, no attachments!

But maybe sometimes about those walks in the city where he would not so subtly grasp your hand, and you would catch him stealing glances at you while a teenager fiddled with his guitar, rhyming she came, my world lit with narcotic, I am addict.

No attachment but Simon's standing outside your workspace when it's raining —“I thought you might need it.” holding up the umbrella but those two words were there again when you were knew deep in the passanger seat and he was eating you out... because it was casual, right ? No attachment.

And it really didn't burn and ached until you got sick, real sick — puking your guts out and coughing until your ribs gave up, surely he wasn't the best role model of no attachment when he was panting to death as he picked your unconscious frame from the floor, you still remember the faint whisper of his ‘please don't leave me, please, please don't —’ over and over.

And if he wanted for no attachment then he should be gone. Gone and not come back because it was just sex...

Simon shouldn't be mopping the floor, and stirring your soup and touching your forehead every five minutes.

No attachment then why he's loading your grocery and taking out trash and doing your laundry, why he's wiping your tears and telling you it's going to be alright.

Why he's not leaving like he always did because there were no attachment right, but he's right here, tucking you in bed and washing your hair and reading you book.

“Is it some eccentric joke ? Why this Zaid is always growling ?—also when you get alright... we're gonna try it out, lovie.”

You blushed, but it wasn't just what he was suggesting but that word, it felt good.

“S-say it again.” You whispered, shifting your head in pillow. Simon turned back a page he was reading from, your scrunchie on his wrist.

“Zaid growled—” You screwed your face,“—oh, we'll try it—”

“last word. Your last word.”

“Oh.” He said, “Lovie...you don't like it ?”

You shaked your head, sniffing very unsexy-ly

“Call me that...I love it.” Simon pushed up the book up his face, his neck was pulsing with his many veins and you knew the blush that would be blooming on his hard face. Cute.

“Again.” You tilted your head, to get a look at his flushed out face.

“Okay Lovie...sleep now.” He grumbled, flicking your bedside lamp off and bookmarking the book with one of your scrunchie he removed from his wrist.

“Huh...Good night baby.” You said, waiting to be corrected, waiting for those two words to come and upside down it all.

But they never came, like they never even existed, never had a meaning to them at all.

No attachment, lost forever in darkness.

“G'night lovie.” He said so sweetly, and when you closed your eyes this time, you only saw daylight.

Grim Reaper! Simon

Masterlist

[gojoest]

they’re finally back together 🥹

but i am not going to lie, seeing them all gathered together feels like satoru will pop up anytime and take them on a mission, but he left letters instead…. :,)

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

Heroes of Millennium (HoM) AU

Act 1, Omake (Extra): Master of Time - (here)

Act 1: What was left behind. - read here

[heartorbit]

the narcissist fools himself

[m00neroni]

remus looking at the night sky every day just before the full moon because that's the closest he is ever gonna be from seeing it on his human form

[eeriedragone]

Bill is my new Muse fr

Song info below

S'i' fosse foco, ardere' il mondo,

s'i' fosse vento, lo tempestarei,

s'i' fosse acqua, i' l'annegherei,

s'i' fosse Dio, mandereil'en profondo.

s'i' fosse papa, sare' allor giocondo,

ché tutti cristïani imbrigherei

s'i' fosse 'mperator, sa' che farei?

A tutti mozzarei lo capo a tondo.

S'i' fosse morte, andarei da mio padre,

s'i' fosse vita, fuggirei da lui:

similemente farìa da mi' madre.

S'i' fosse Cecco, com'i' sono e fui,

torrei le donne giovani e leggiadre:

e vecchie e laide lasserei altrui.

"S'i fosse foco" performed by Fabrizio De André

(S'i' fosse foco, arderei 'l mondo,

s'i' fosse vento, lo tempesterei,

s'i' fosse acqua, i' l'annegherei,

s'i' fosse Dio, mandereil'en profondo.)

This poem was originally written by Cecco Angiolieri, and it is meant to be improper and silly, going against the vaules of the time (at least this is what I found out after 5 min of research haha, and it reminded me of a certain triangle).

[gunsatthaphan]

[...] internal summer. the taste of summer that looks like you."

[mary-james-world-of-shames]

Everyone know oavement on TikTok? Yeah. Love them. Have this comic I made late at night half trying to be sweet and the other half trying to make my sibling laugh.

[biorust-art]

Dorian and his new outfit captivates me.

He may not like the gold but damn I do.

[Two digital drawings of Dorian Storm from Critical Role. In the first one he stands facing the viewer with his head tilted to the side with a deadly expression. His hips are cocked and one hand holding his rapier while the other sparks with lightning that spirals up his arm. He is wearing more gold accessories, like a wing shaped corset, a bracer, gold chains and a golden laurel crown in addition to his shoulder pauldron. The background is dark gray and a light beams shine on one side of his face, both illuminating the gold to white and casting the other side of his face in deep shadows. His cape and hair flow with an incoming storm. The second drawing is a profile view of Dorian strutting, the same extra gold accessories are included, with the golden laurels curling in his hair and the wing shaped corset emphasizing his waist and butt. End ID]

[lazulines]

brave alfonse