I'm slowly getting to all of them... and I like it so far~~~

Arys Oakheart was courteous, and would talk to her cordially. Once he even objected when Joffrey commanded him to hit her. He did hit her in the end, but not hard as Ser Meryn or Ser Boros might have, and at least he had argued.

Sansa I - ACOK

It still shamed Ser Arys to remember all the times he'd struck that poor Stark girl at the boy's command. When Tyrion had chosen him to go with Myrcella to Dorne, he lit a candle to the Warrior in thanks.

The Soiled Knight - AFFC

Gang's on the move

(a pipe burst in the hoard storage room)

it crismiss

mer critmiss

[id: Second Breakfast, the yellow and white ball python, with a Santa hat on, being cuddled by Star]

Quick, post Hollow Knight sketchbook art from circa five years ago and go to bed before anyone notices (but a second time because Tumblr is being weird about the first attempt)

My Apocalypse-causing love ❤

So... are we going to be chill and not harrass authors, actors and overall rq people, right? Right?

*looks intently at the tma fandom

Some new art of a very very old oc of mine! From like, when I was an 8th grader in middle school to freshman in high school I think, I haven’t thought about this character or the world she’s from in like… years, but my brain suddenly remembered she existed! And so I drew some art of her!

Visually, she’s absolutely mostly the result of my child self sticking Toko Fukawa from Danganronpa and Peacock from Skullgirls in a blender and lettin it fuckin rip. Personality wise she’s a bit different tho… she’s into politics! As in,,, she’s in politics ghgh, she’s like the chief of the surveillance department for the country of (mostly) witches that the story takes place in. And one of the advisors to the head ruler witch,,, she sucks! Hardcore! she’s def a villain lol

Should I post my tomato soup recipe?

I’m bored, so please look at my cats ₍^. ̫ .^₎ ₍^. ̫ .^₎

Left: Captain Jax Parrow

Nicknames: Monkey, MonkChunk, HughMonkus, BigOl’Boy, MonkerMoo, Bunk

Right: Daedric Princess Azura

Nicknames: CookieBean, Reekicheeki, Reekicheekitabby, Sweetpea, Kittykittymewmew, BabyBeanCutestThingI’veSeen

Bonus: silly pics~

Effloresce Snippet

He kissed both her cheeks, bending even lower to raise Nesta’s right hand, pressing her cold knuckles to his brow in solemn salute. “Nesta Archeron,” Jurian said, like her name was twice its length, a foreign weighted history, “You ready to know whose blood runs in your veins?” Nesta, who had lived this particular conversation thrice over now, only shook her head. Touched between his brows in curious, only half-understood benediction, allowing him to step away. “Jurian. You survived the fires.” His smile was only in his eyes, rainwater grey searingly bright. “You wouldn’t waste time sending messages to corpses.” Nadia, from where she’d stopped three swaggering paces into the room, shedding her coat and swords with utterly false carelessness, huffed out a rough laugh. It was a bizarre comfort to see her, unchanged- strong brown hands dense with tattoos that bloomed into looser patterns up her arms, those knives and that hideous leather vest, remnants of a life that seemed nearly simple, now. So very far away. She cast a scathing look at Nesta’s guard, the Illyrian busy visibly wishing murder upon Jurian, his entire focus held on the distance between their bodies. “Protection has gotten more interesting,” she said, tone blithe, “Where’s your Vanserra?” “Honeymoon.” Nesta let herself lean back onto the desk, hand behind her body biting into its ash lip. Dawn, Winter, reconnaissance. Elain walking underhill in mortal wedding pearls, Lucien at her back. A heaved sigh, Jurian’s head oh so briefly dipped. “Wars and weddings, my lady. Blessings.” “When you were our age, humans couldn’t marry.” “Nor does he believe in any damned gods,” Nadia crossed the room fae quick, expression wicked as the guard flinched, stopping right alongside Nesta. A test, twofold- Nesta didn’t pull a knife as Nadia had once taught her, the legionnaire didn’t start in on violence without orders. “Don’t believe the prayers, unless they’re bloody.”

Vincent Price - Up in Central Park (1947)

life is short; eat your boyfriend

and we call THIS pairing janit

yes i love hama. yes i hate jet. it is not that complicated, actually. it’s called. being a lesbian