gzeidraws

[chickie456-chickencoop]

Patrick Star) I love you ❤️

[what-day-of-the-week]

If you don't know, you can check on your phone's calendar, or this website

[holographings]

my softest, beigest pillow

[bluebelledmoon]

as soon as i saw the first panel of the final part to @buggachat 's au i launched myself into my sketchbook.

congrats on finishing it! beau really is spectacular :)

[omaano]

Hello there

"Now where did I last see someone kick a droid's head so clean off its neck, I wonder."

I'm just as surprised as any of you but this old man is finally done and shaded! The background to go with him is most decidedly not, so you'll have to wait a bit on that ^^; but I wanted to prove that I am finishing up my Hades AU wips while I put up new characters to be voted on each month ^^

[b1adie]

[luuxxart]

epic sequel to this comic

[novy2sirius]

did u know monday is actually a better “resting day” than sunday?

☽ monday -> a moon day astrologically

the moon is associated with comfortability, relaxation, and some astrologer say it’s associated with sleep. these days are better to relax on

⨀ sunday -> a sun day astrologically

the sun is associated with being active, partying, and being sociable in general. these days are good days to have fun

♄ saturday -> a saturn day astrologically

saturn is associated with working. you will accomplish more when working on these days

[wherethesaladthingsare]

WINNER TEAM SULEMIO

[bonemeal12]

today seems to be less of stimmy speedster sunday and more like… hmm… uhhh… erm… o..overstimulated vigilante monday… on a sunday?

[chickie456-chickencoop]

Sunday and Monday's "home"

Me)

(I swear half of the villains be homeless...)

[harmonysanreads]

Sunday has heard off-handed whispers about the apparent sharpness of his gaze. Clearly, the people that find themselves so fascinated by this prospect have never had the fortune of being vivisected by your eyes.

“Have you heard of the cuttlefish, sunny?”

If a singular tendon of his arms flinched, it surely did not last long enough to be a scene. The emphasized drawl of the nickname halts him mid-task, the skin of a half peeled orange pinched between his thumb and index fingers.

“I have, yes. Why do you ask?” he says simply. You don't even need Halovian telepathy to know what words stay dormant beneath his tongue, what scheme are you weaving this time?

“Ah, it's just that, they seem awfully similar to you.” your palms cushion your cheeks, elbows resting atop the mahogany table.

Sunday's eyelashes flutter at the subtle jab you end your sentence with and you proceed at the cue, “They're extremely skilled at camouflage, capable of blending with their surroundings to fend off predators and disarm preys. Although that is testament to them being an intelligent species, if I may disperse any air of criticism my words could have created.”

The twinkle in your irises eagerly trails after the resumed motions of Sunday's hand, “They look unassuming most of the time, wandering close to the corals and sands in search of sustenance. It's rather mesmerizing, the way they can merge with their environment, I mean.”

A sheer tendril is dissected by his nimble fingers, the carpel detaching next. Sunday raises the slice to your lips, a mistake, a truly composed Sunday would never do so until every carpel was cleanly peeled — the way your lips curve at that blunder temporarily freezes the man's lungs from working.

“That is until, they finally have their preys right before their clutches. The true, hideous sight of their nature resurfaces. That's a fascinating sight too, although transient nonetheless.” you take your time in biting into its flesh, dragging the slice towards your mouth at an agonizing pace. The ghost of your lips brushing against his finger jostles him to consciousness.

The way his gloved fingers shift to ensnare your jaw in the gentlest hold can only be achieved by Sunday, that fact reassures you that you didn't accidentally short-circuit his brain so hard that basic cognition eluded him (though the prospect doesn't sound that unappealing).

“Then, it should be advisable for the prey to either learn swiftness or to not provoke the cuttlefish, if it values its survival.” a wayward drop of orange juice is smeared across your lower lip by the thumb of his hand, “Wouldn't you agree, dearest?”

It's his turn to drawl and relish in your balance tipped askew, golden eyes sparkling further at the petulant crossing of your arms and huffs of obvious irritation at the loss. This is no new scenery for the Oak Family's leader, the constant string of mind games that incipient as a result of your tenacity. Not that he minds, he looks forward to it even.

You get more and more creative with your ploys each time he turns his back. Well, not that it bothers him. There's an impressive list of people who'd love to throw every insult known to mankind at his face just to create a crack in his composure, a simple comparison to some fish is nothing compared to what he's already heard. He's certain it will go away before he knows it.

(The incident replays without pause in a sleepless Sunday's restless mind the same night, your peaceful slumbering form beside his person does nothing but make dread pool in his stomach — he's not that hideous in your eyes... right?)

[salmon4dinner]

everyday should be Sunday

[reasonandfaithinharmony]

Seriously

[mirrorhouse]

AMANDA YOUNG | THE SCOTT TIBBS DOCUMENTARY

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

I’m just sayin. If Monty wasn’t made of metal, I’d definitely use his titties as a pillow on the reg

(This is a set of doodles I like to call, “Moon has a teenaged girl moment when he realizes that he is toothpick shaped”)