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me holding a gun to a mushroom: tell me the name of god you fungal piece of shit

mushroom: can you feel your heart burning? can you feel the struggle within? the fear within me is beyond anything your soul can make. you cannot kill me in a way that matters

me cocking the gun, tears streaming down my face: I’M NOT FUCKING SCARED OF YOU

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My fav lesser known kato canon twin fact is that they both have awful bedhead

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saw a car dragging a labubu facedown through the street

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HOLLIE MILLER / “MERCURY” / 2020 [printed on hahnemuehle paper | 13 x 13″]

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obligatory 2:30 am willry ramble (cw mentioned homophobia, nothing big)

In the beginning, they were best business buddies, friends that met in college and hit it off immediately, yadda yadda yadda. They found their respective ladies, got married, had kids, and decided to put their little restaurant plans from back in college into action (fuck fall fest).

There wasn't anything super special between them at the time. They were loyal to their wives, and saw each other as nothing but best friends, the type you'd sleep with in the same bed, no homo style. They'd seen each other nearly naked in the springlock suits, shared the last bottle of beer, all that normal bestie stuff.

Then their wives fell right out of the picture. Death, divorce, whatever it was, it left both Henry and William reeling, both lacking that figure that you're supposed to cherish and love until the end, their respective families now left with a gaping, person-sized hole smack in the center.

In an effort to rebuild and move past, that closeness evolved into something slightly more intimate. Resting together on the couch turned into cuddly naps, trying to figure out how to bake (as the men in relationships that sparked at latest in the 70s) turned into a partner activity, and where they'd work on opposite sides of their little workshop before, one would find himself massaging the other's aching back while watching over his shoulder and criticizing his work.

They never put a name to it, nor did they even try to. They were drowning in paperwork and business and robots and dealing with angsty teenagers and hyper children, so they never bothered to realize what had sparked between them. It felt perfectly normal, and with how popular they were in town, everyone assumed the same. In a time where homosexuals were looked down upon, it'd be foolish to assume the most successful businessmen in the area would fall to such sins.

It was great, until, as it always does, shit hits the fan. The Bite of '83 happened, and William spiraled right into the deep end. He changed. He became colder, more distant, and while at first Henry tried to brush this off as deep-set grief, it only grew and grew. No matter what Henry tried, he couldn't prevent William changing.

Then came Charlie's death. It hit Henry straight out of left field, as you'd assume the death of a child would, and now he was left scrambling for nothing, left to rot in the middle of a raging ocean with no driftwood to hold onto. William was the same, though rather than an ocean of despair, he was in the burning pits of insanity, and while Henry kept swimming, desperate to save himself from drowning, William embraced it, drinking the flames and allowing the blaze to scorch him from the inside and out.

Opposites attract, usually. After all, at first, William was the stuck-up, charming, professional British man, with a resting bitch face and a face so pale, it looked as if he had never seen the sun, while Henry was boisterous and outgoing, the dad friend, Southern and tanned from a life in the sun.

But when Henry eventually put together the pieces as William's mind fell further apart, not even the basic laws of physics and fate could rescue them. By the time he figured out the whole story, the place in his heart reserved for his best friend had filled in, gone with no trace left behind besides a faint grief of what they once had.

William's heart, on the other hand, had shattered. His youngest son was dead, Elizabeth was dead, Michael had abandoned him, and all he had left was what Henry used to be to him. Internally, as he was killed and burnt and killed and burnt time and time again, he didn't know what he wanted. As regrets rotted and festered for decades alongside him, all he could think about was that he wanted to feel Henry's hug again. He wanted to rekindle what they once had, even if deep inside, he knew damn well it would never happen.

When Henry created the fake restaurant to lure William in, it was... an emotional disaster. Obviously, it tends to be such when the culmination of decades of death and revenge and disaster all go up in literal flames, and you see your long-gone children one last time, but when you place two former lovers in a room, one that's moved on and one that's glued to his spot, it doesn't go well. Henry felt no remorse, because what he saw in front of him as the temperature rose wasn't the man he cherished. It was a monster, from the same pits of hell that William fell prey to. But what William saw was the same man, unchanged and undefeated, exactly the same as what he had once loved, and as Henry's speech rang out through the restaurant and Cassidy prepared herself to play god, he wasn't scared. He was broken.

okay yeah idk what that was i hope it was coherent 😭

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I had a stupid idea and I really wanted to draw it for some reason

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Boosty

Telegram

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Don't get attached to eurymachus's mom she died giving birth to him

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Argos is a Pomeranian and DOES bite at the suitors

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The lack of sympathy for Amanda is disgusting. People hate her because she's an aggressive and volatile victim instead of a quiet and submissive one. There are more fans who are sympathizing with Wooly because he's their ideal victim, unlike Amanda. 

In the real world, people believe victims have to be soft and quiet, only caring about them if they act as such. However, when victims don't behave like this, then people have no sympathy for them whatsoever. The Amanda the Adventurer community is perpetuating this same repulsive behavior.

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Getting snacks for the team!

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To be fair, I like sleeping on the top bunk so I have an advantage if someone comes into my room to kill me and I think L would too

I have the high ground, Light.

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falling in love again

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Aaliyah as the fictional Queen Akasha of Kemet in the 2002 film Queen of the Damned.

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Missing their loved ones(it's been 3 days since they left)

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live laugh love Herbert Ponting's descriptions