#this is comfort kinda but

[dirt-goth]

As much as I want to be a wholly joyous about the fact that Henry Kissinger is finally fucking dead, as he deserves... There's a lot of me that can't help being upset with. With the fact that he lived to 100 years old. He got better medical care, better housing, and a better, more stable life for those 100 years than billions on this planet ever going to see and he did it specifically through exploitation, state sanctioned murder, and lies. He lived to 100 years comfortably on a legacy of violence that rarely threatened his personal comfort. I want to be joyous that he's finally dead, because the world IS better with him dead, but the reality is he won a long time ago.

[oars]

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF 4 nightmares haunted all the Afton kids..

[remxedmoon]

comfort food.

(greyscale below!)

aaaaa. iii needed to make something self indulgent!!!! and for me that means drawing Bonnie and also putting a frankly stupid amount of work into rendering food!! outside of the onigiri and spaghetti (kind of), most of these were firsts for me and GOD im so happy with the results. i’ve seen a few people say that my art makes them hungry teehee. i hope this illicits the same reaction! please enjoy :3

here’s the greyscale version!! iii don’t think it’s As Appetizing as the colored version and the values are a little messy but! it exist !

[clourey]

“you’re ignoring me,” sae mutters, his expression unreadable.

you, in contrast, are evidently very surprised as your eyes widen and your lips part slightly. you turn to meet his gaze, and your confusion is acknowledged with a scoff.

“you didn’t say ‘i love you’ to me this morning, and you haven’t said it all day.”

his countenance doesn’t falter when he speaks, but there is a faint of hurt laced in his voice.

“baby—” you shift your body towards him, gently cupping his cheeks, “i’m so, so sorry, i must’ve…”

you hesitate to continue, inwardly berating yourself.

your boyfriend has admitted to you before, in a rare moment of vulnerability, how much every ‘i love you’ means to him. how — when he’s distanced himself from the affection of everyone else he knows — much weight an ‘i love you’ holds.

so what reason were you to give to him? that you simply forgot?

“you must’ve forgotten?”

sae finishes your sentence. it’s better than hearing you say it.

he knows you didn’t mean to hurt him, but what was he to think when you’d forgotten the gesture of love that he thought was firmly rooted in your daily routine? what was he to think when you’d so easily forgotten something that he thought was natural?

“and you still haven’t said it.”

shit, is your only reaction as sae extracts your hands from his face. he shrugs, promptly leaving you desolate in the living room.

was he overreacting? maybe, he thinks, but today was the first time he felt the same as he did before had he met you.

[daily-snufkin]

🌿 DAY 4

I'll see you soon.

[orykorioart]

Can we all take a moment to appreciate Grendan’s fashion growth journey?

Queen of having fun w their gender. He can do whatever he wants forever

[ibahibut]

💀: Fewer wounds, more kisses from me.

🐦‍⬛: Contract's accepted, mi amor.

Music inspiration: A Little Death by The Neighbourhood

[mothnether]

John in pj's because i KNOW he would only wear comfortable clothing and im here for it. his jacket came to me in those delirious seconds before sleep

alt john where i realised i just recreated kim from disco elysium

[pluvionpc]

anidala as…

Homecoming by Hans Adolf Bühler, 1939

(disclaimer: not meant to reference or support original artist’s views or intent)

“‘No.’ He laid a gentle finger on her lips, smiling down at her. ‘No buts. No worries. You worry too much as is.’

‘I have to,’ she said, smiling through the tears in her eyes. ‘Because you never worry at all.’”

— Matthew Stover, Revenge of the Sith Novelization

[ original + rambles under the cut ]

sometimes i think about the realness of anidala’s stories. boys much too young sent off to war; their lovers taking on the emotional burden of being their relief. i think about how padmé, as a senator, would have her own struggles and worries to face alongside stressing that her teenage husband wasn’t going to return from the frontlines. i wonder if she was able to talk about it when they met up, the same way we see her constantly listening to his ongoing turmoil— especially during the latter half of the war. or, maybe, they just sat together. two people charging head-first into different types of battles because they felt they had no other options. i have to do this.

[unsung-idiot]

[gatoburr0]

[zillychu]

I had a dream that I told a firefly I was scared to die.

The firefly responded,

“But you will still be the universe.

You will still be you.

Parts rearranged but never lost.

Do you mourn that you cannot see from my eyes?”

I woke up and felt my own skin. For a moment, I felt the walls of my room and the space between stars. I took a breath.

“Well shit, now I do."

[simonbrain]

the mask is something simon just can't part with. maybe the piece of clothing shouldn't bring him such a strong sense of security, and maybe it shouldn't feel so right when people view the skull as his actual face rather than the hardened flesh that hides behind the mask, but he's too attached. he doesn't think he'll ever let go of it.

and then you come along with your sweet face and your gentle words, and it's everything simon has ever wanted—everything he's longed for when he's alone in the silence of his room. the hole in his chest seems to cling back together again, as if the dead ends are regenerating with each smile and each shy laugh you send his way. it's like his body is trying to accept those soft emotions he's been suppressing for so long.

although he finds that even if he can't fix himself, if he can't fully heal, your love fits snugly in the cavity of his chest much better anyway.

honestly, he didn't think he would ever gain the courage to get into a relationship, not after everything he had been through, not after how awkward and stiff he was when trying to ask you out, but here you were—his own little heaven on earth.

you don't even complain about the heated makeout sessions through the layer that separates your need to fully consume each other, nor do you pressure him to take it off. you always say kissing like that is hotter, anyway.

it's humbling how quickly you had slipped past the walls he built around himself, how the alarms that used to ring in his head transformed into sweet little bells that lulled him into a pure feeling of bliss that he hasn't felt in years. his selfishness knows no bounds; you had fully given yourself over to him, and he hadn't wasted a single ounce of your energy. he wants to return the love you seem to endlessly supply him with. he wants to share everything about himself with you.

which is why you're both seated on the couch, one of your hands grasped in his for comfort as he quietly announces that he wants to show you something. you don't even have to ask what it is.

"take your time, si," you murmur, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek. his free hand digs tightly into the bottom of his balaclava, holding it in an iron grip even though he knows you'd never pull it off, and he swears his heart is pounding in his ears. what if he's not what you're expecting? what if you recoil from him in disgust? the scars he's hiding aren't exactly flattering, he knows, and his teeth might not be the straightest bunch, but—

you raise your hands up and gently cup his cheeks, leaning forward again to nuzzle against his face. you giggle softly when he tilts his head so your lips connect through the thin barrier, and your heart flutters when he relaxes in your hold.

"i have an idea," you whisper when you part from him, a wet spot formed on the front of his mask now. he hums softly in response and tries his best not to tense up when your hands slide down to his neck, your fingers smoothing underneath the fabric, resting there. "and you can't laugh."

simon chuckles quietly at that, his anxiety dissipating almost immediately. "promise."

"how about i see half of your face at a time?" he makes a noise at your question, about to interrupt when you lean in closer and begin peppering kisses over his jawline. "i can see the bottom half when we're kissing," you murmur through your pecks, reaching the corner of his mouth, "and later on, when i'm sitting on your face, you can take it off and i can see the rest." your tongue slips out to lick over his lips, a tease of what's about to come.

simon doesn't respond, not verbally, but you can tell he's already itching to get the damn thing off his head.

[mickules]

Why is it even called a Funeral anyway? There's nothing fun about it.

---

So guess what major life event I had to muddle through huh?

to top it off too, I've also had a bunch of OTHER major life changes all happening at once, including stuff with my job and flat- positive things! But not without their own share of stress

I'm doing alright, no need to worry about me, but as you can imagine any art plans kinda went straight out the window. I just had to get my head back on straight.

I'm back in the swing of things, excited about what's coming up, and have got some fun things in the works!

much love for all your patience.

[alicornze7]

Silly guys goin' on silly adventures:]

@rorydrawsandwrites's puppeteer au but the only difference is that jax gives consent

My contribution to this wonderful au has been long overdue:')

Rambling in tags ehe (cw: ribbun:p)

Well maybe it's not the only difference