My wish- -to go with you to the nooks of the known world, where only the past lives, and kiss you- -till we breathe each other in and can only see sunlight

"so, mr. black leg, how do you manage to smoke 3 packs a day and keep so fit?"

(click for quality)

nothing happened

…nothing at all

some quick jjk eye paintings

benn is actually praying for himself bc he knows that this is somehow going to turn into his problem 😔🙏

First art of the new year is all about re-structuring your internal monologue.

In my early 20s I was working full time in London with many social commitments and a variety of hustles and side projects.

In my later mid 20s I cater to many sensory and social drain needs I have and indulge in special interests while respecting my lower energy reserves and celebrating my different way of processing the world.

Did I get more autistic? Nah. I got less fake.

-

[Art description: Three panels showing figures on a black background. Long descriptions follow.

1. A drawing of OP as a person with hip-length hair and a dress standing sadly with her hands clapsed together in front of her. She is coloured a muted rainbow gradient. Behind her, two pairs of nondescript figures chat while smiling. White text says, ‘I’m getting more and more autistic the older I get.’ 2. OP’s colours are brighter, and her expression looks happier. Crayon-like scribbles have crossed out the text from the previous panel. 3. OP’s colours are vibrant, and she balances on one leg and throws her arms out as she dances. The text above has changed to say, ‘I’m becoming more and more myself the older I get.’ \End descriptions]

honestly no wonder harrow forced ianthe to lobotomize her so she could save gideon. listen…LISTEN…if i was a secret-war-crime cult nunlet princess worshipped by my entire planet and the only person that (barely) kept me in check was my childhood nemesis—a butch a year older than me, towering over me in stature and physical prowess, and so hot it made my teeth hurt from how hard my jaw clenched in her presence, who wielded a two-handed seven-foot sword and had irritatingly huge biceps and told very lewd stupid jokes and also learned how to wield an entirely new weapon and be my bodyguard with startling accuracy in three months—only to have us finally learn to trust each other because we got invited to a magic murder mystery and then before the bubble burst i spilled the worst secret about myself that i was born because my parents murdered an entire generation and tried to Kill Her along with them and she just wouldnt die, and i told her this expecting a swift death i believed i deserved, only for her to fucking cradle me in her big butch arms and kiss me on my forehead with her soft butch mouth and just. forgive me for a shameful weight ive carried my entire life and then MAKE AN ACTUAL NECRO/CAV VOW with me despite every evil thing i have done to her……to have her tell me, in the end, bleeding and broken after putting up the most beautiful and glorious fight of her life, that she understands purpose and she understands duty and she knows loyalty more fiercely than ever now, that she knows who she is to me, that there is no her without me….to have her backed into a corner and make the ultimate sacrifice…..for me…..to recite scriptural wedding vows of eternity to me in her last wisps of soul-consciousness…..if i thought there was even a snowflake’s chance in the pyre that i could save her by turning myself into her very own locked tomb, i’d be begging ianthe tridentweirdius to crack my skull open and turn me to mush too, goddamn. i understand you harrowhark girl you don’t have to explain a thing to me. god said you couldn’t undo the lyctor’s bond bc it’d kill you. you told god and his angels that not even a lyctor’s bond could outshine the power of female spite and lesbianism and they didn’t listen. they didn’t believe you. but i heard you loud and clear and i was 17 and hormonal and hopelessly romantic not too long ago unlike those fucking dinosaurs and i’m saying it’s valid it’s what i would have done and really everyone should be thanking you for not being worse and more wretched about it, all things considered

“Dead ahead. Don’t miss.”

((aka me realizing i’m still down bad for revalink at 3am : ^ ) when you call revali’s gale in the dark beast ganon fight so you can take the final shot together 👌 close up under cut!))

Edit: @ginneke​ wrote an amazing fic inspired by this piece here!

she’ll be alright because she had you.

The thing about Wyll is that he Gets It. He knows the story. He knows the kind of man his father is and the kind of man he was supposed to be. He knew what Mizora was when he made the pact. He knew what it meant. And he was just a kid, and his city needed saving, so he did it, and he paid that price, and even knowing all of that he still tried to appeal to his father for understanding and forgiveness.

He sold his soul to do the right thing. And he was cast out. And he knew what character that should have made him.

He knows the story he's in, and every day he chooses who he wants to be instead.

okay but nessie was given the scientific name nessiteras rhombopteryx so she’d be included in the conservation of wild creatures and wild plants act of ‘75.

it’s a felony to shoot bigfoot in washington state.

the human race has sent out messages to the stars, hoping that any extraterrestrials who hear will accept our offer of friendship.

ghost hunters extend their sympathy to the souls of murder victims and bring along items that the spirits loved in life.

I think there’s something very human about the desire to believe in the paranormal. we don’t know if any of these things truly exist, but we make the offer of friendship and protection anyway. I just think it’s really lovely in its own ridiculous way.

i know we all know neil’s narration is insanely unreliable but leaving out the part when he takes jean to fox tower before the final game is Up There in the top 5 crazy things he’s failed to mention. like brother… jean freaks out and loses his fucking mind over kevin’s queen tattoo and u don’t think that’s worth even a passing mention????? be real

I don’t think the crown works like this. added the full pages

Watched OPLA , I am weak for the King and His Knight dynamic and apparently the red/green will continue to haunt me

Zuko, hungover: please tell me I’m imagining that I claimed I was the king of all the turtleducks

Sokka: I would, but then I’d be lying to the King of All Turtleducks

Forever thinking about this gif in particular.

It’s Echo confused and rambling while he’s still plugged into the Techno Union computer. How he’s still stuck in that moment in the Citadel.

It’s how Rex’s helmet is off so Echo can see his face for the first time in who knows how long. So there isn’t a barrier between them. So he can be as open and vulnerable as possible for Echo.

It’s Rex’s face, his guilt and shame passing over his expression. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s remembering exactly what happened that day at the Citadel when he lost Echo. It’s the sorrow there. It’s how fucking upsetting this must be for him.

It’s the way he grabs the back of Echo’s head to keep him from hurting himself. It’s his other hand as a grounding presence. It’s the way he looks like he’s trying to hold Echo together with his touch alone.

It’s all the history between them. It’s the shared loss of Fives. The grief. The pain. It’s the endless hours spent knowing and understanding each other. It’s the reminder that Rex met a shiny on the Rishi moon and watched him grow into a capable soldier and an ARC trooper. The same shiny he watched die at the Citadel. The one he can’t help but see even in this moment, after he’s been tortured and experimented on.

It’s how Echo puts all of his faith in Rex and always will. He’s never found a reason to doubt him even after everything he’s been through.

It’s the way Rex so very clearly loves Echo. The way he lets go so Echo can join the batch and learn who he is now. The way their trust transcends everything. It is woven through every story thread, every scene, every line said between them.

It’s a connection that can’t be severed because they’ve never stopped fighting for it.