#i miss everything about you

[bl0omss]

It feels like in another life, we were allowed to love each other. Idk how, or when. But it feels like my soul keeps being drawn to you. Through distance and dreams, you haunt me. Like a trace of fog in fields at night you can’t quite see. That you yearn to touch but you know better than to try. Like a see you soon said for the very last time.

[kdt3al]

I miss your voice. The way you could calm me down with just a few words. I want to hear it forever.

I miss your eyes. The way you looked at me, I felt like the only person in the room. I felt so important.

I miss your hair. The way the curls shaped your face. I just want to run my fingers through it.

I miss your smell. If only I could bury my face in you for a cuddle.

I miss you.

I wish you were here.

[sckr-fr-love]

Paul Kalkbrenner - Sky and Sand (Official Music Video)

In the daytime

You will find me by your side

Tryin' to do my best

And tryin' to make things right

When it all turns wrong

There's no fault but mine

But it won't hit hard

'Cause you let me shine

[thedreadvampy]

people seriously pretending EEAAO is overrated suddenly bc it swept awards? it swept awards largely because it is very very very good. I cried like someone who's just had a religious revelation BOTH times I watched it bc it touched something raw and real and beautiful but it was also just very, very funny. everyone's performance kills and the concept is creative and interesting and doesn't distract from the emotional core. you guys are just contrarian.

[bakuliwrites]

As Astarion regains his autonomy, he learns to love all the things his body can do, both for others and for himself.

His elegant hands work needle and thread with ease. He's embroidered nearly every article of clothing he owns. And maybe if you ask nicely, he'll add some much needed embellishment to yours, too.

Can't open that locked chest? Don't worry, darling, he's on it. His nimble fingers make quick work of it. He plays it off as no big deal, but secretly likes it when you praise him for his efforts. Or, he makes a gigantic deal of your praise in the most obnoxious way possible, but deep down, he truly does appreciate it.

His silver tongue can draw from you the most sumptuous moans and the sweetest blushes, but also the most jubilant of laughter. He prides himself on his quick wit and is delighted when you provide him with the sustenance of banter.

He's lithe and swift. He can dodge volleys of arrows fired at him, deftly roll out of harms way, or dexterously slip from the grasp of his captors. He's a master with a dagger and bow. Watch him take down foes, left and right. He's strong. He can lift boxes, crates, barrels, you name it. Need help lifting something? Astarion can certainly assist (but not without some amount of whining).

His voice can be soft and sultry, like when he's reading poetry to you under flickering candlelight. It can be strong and commanding when he's defending himself or you. Firm when he needs to advocate for himself. You remind him to always advocate for himself, a notion he's only recently started to take to heart.

His eyes are keen. They can see in the shadows with utmost precision. He's observant, something he's had to be in order to survive. His excellent eyesight has come in handy many a time over the course of your journey.

He likes that his nose can pick up the scent of blood from a mile away. He likes how precise his sense of smell is when it comes to differentiating blood. He likes that his ears can pick up the faintest sounds. Centuries of living in darkness, of having to sneak about have helped him hone his senses.

He likes the way he can feel delightful tingles coursing through his veins when you run your fingers through his fine, silver hair. He likes the way the fine strands of snowy white curl over his forehead, tickle his skin when a breeze lifts them.

He likes the way you describe him. It's been so long since he's seen himself in a mirror, but your verbal (or literal) illustrations of him will suffice. He's edges and angles. Paleness, crimson, and silver. Ethereal. He's pretty and he knows it, but sometimes, the reassurance is much appreciated. Much needed.

Astarion likes that he can bring you pleasure. He likes that he can feel pleasure all his own when he's with you. He doesn't have to use his body to ensure his own safety. To guarantee that you won't harm or betray him. He likes that you don't ask him to do anything he doesn't want to.

Astarion loves his body. He loves how strong it is. How swift, how fragile, how durable it is. He loves how hard it works for him. Astarion's body is his and his alone, and he loves this.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

im a Bit late to the "kill this guy meme w/ your comfort characters" but in my defense:

:]c

[venomous-qwille]

Can you please just tell us what is wrong with ai and why, I can't find anything from actual industry artists ect online through Google just tech bro type articles. All the tech articles are saying it's a good thing, and every pro I follow refuses to explain how or why it's bad. How am I supposed to know something if nobody will teach me and I can't find it myself

I'll start by saying that the reason pro artists are refusing to answer questions about this is because they are tired. Like, I dont know if anyone actually understands just how exhausting it is to have to justify over and over again why the tech companies that are stealing your work and actively seeking to destroy your craft are 'bad, actually'.

I originally wrote a very longform reply to this ask, but in classic tumblr style the whole thing got eaten, so. I do not have the spoons to rewrite all that shit. Here are some of the sources I linked, I particularly recommend stable diffusion litigation for a thorough breakdown of exactly how generative tools work and why that is theft.

or this video if you are feeling lazy and only want the art-side opening statements:

Everytime you feed someone's work- their art, their writing, their likeness- into Midjourney or Dall-E or Chat GPT you are feeding this monster.

Go forth and educate yourself.

[lasshoe]

2.06 | 3.06

We good?

[arthursfuckinghat]

I'm at that part of chapter three my friends, so let me be a reminder that Colm O'Driscoll's plan to lure in Dutch after taking Arthur failed because nobody came looking for him.

He would have died being held captive any longer, he barely escaped.

The gang did not come for Arthur.

[jedi-starbird]

No one ever tells Obi-Wan that he is his Master's padawan.

Of course, for most people who had known Qui-Gon Jinn, telling someone else they resembled the the man would in fact be a thinly veiled insult. But still, Obi-Wan feels the absence of comparisons almost as strongly as he feels the absence of his Master.

There is no one for Obi-Wan to push against now, no strong presence at his side, ready to grab him by scruff and pull him back from another reckless stunt. It's an odd feeling. He has been set loose against his wishes. There is no one to his left and Anakin at his heels, but Anakin had needed, still needs, a strong, gentle figure for his prickly but sensitive heart. For even their worst bickering could not hold a candle to the scathing remarks he and Qui-Gon had shot at each other and Obi-Wan knows he cannot push and needle Anakin in the same way.

When Qui-Gon had been alive they had been an amusing, mirrored pair, the maverick and his rule-following padawan. Opposites clashing against each other, yet working together to complete the most difficult missions. Few saw that Qui-Gon's impertinence had indeed rubbed off on his padawan, cultivated from that small, angry initiate, because the only way to rebel against the rule-breaker had been to parrot the Council fastidiously. No one would ever get to see that again. Obi-Wan is one half of a mirrored pair trying to complete a routine on his own. What once was an impish, teasing compliance is now a betrayal of all his Master's values.

"How could Qui-Gon raise such a model Jedi?" He hears them say, "It's admirable that Master Kenobi was appointed to the Council despite his Master's maverick ways."

Padawan Kenobi would have yelled and kicked and screamed. Master Kenobi is serene. It should feel like an achievement. It feels like a disappointment.

Sometimes, Obi-Wan looks at the shape of the man he has moulded himself into, and aches to be his Master's padawan.

[soup--champ]

“…i wish i could’ve been that someone you needed to not be alone anymore.”

[crybaby-bkg]

cw: Bakugou dies but comes back to life, “comes back wrong” trope, implied fighting, angst

When Bakugou died, you’re not sure how you went on living. Grief had taken over your life, sat you in the passenger side while it cruised off the highway into icy waters. And even then, you couldn’t find the energy to drown.

It’s why there’s a sudden uptick of energy when you’re promised to have him back. Some top scientists contact you months after his death, tell you to hurry down to the headquarters labs, come and rejoice for what you’re about to witness. And you’re horrified, to say the least.

“This isn’t my husband.” Are your first words when you walk in, watch the figure on the other side of the glass examine its own hands. It looks like your husband but—but his hair isn’t the right shade of blond all over. His nose bridge had a slight bump after a scuffle with a villain. He had a scar on his hand but—but it never looked like it was to sew a pinky beside the other fingers.

“Is that really my husband?” You ask next in disbelief, slowly entering the room. Bakugou’s head snaps up, his eyes a little brighter than you remember but—they hold so much emotion. So much memory, so much panic, so much guilt.

“I left you.” He mutters, his voice raspy and ragged, and you wonder if it’ll always be like this now. It makes you cry a little harder than it should, but you only embrace each other. He’s cold and his shoulders don’t hold the same mass and his back doesn’t carry the same scars. There’s one, jagged and rough, running down his back, and you think, you think that’s where they slipped a new spine in.

“Welcome back home.” You tell him, weeks after meeting him again, new and not totally—Katsuki. He’s stiff and he doesn’t immediately take off his boots when he enters, and it worries you. Makes you think if you’ve just let a stranger into your home, one that has stolen your dead husbands face. Makes you wonder if he’ll be as loving as Katsuki once was, or if he’ll become your monster looming over you with the guilt of not being able to rest anymore.

“I’ve missed you so much.” You whisper against his mouth one night, a little while after he’s moved back. You don’t know why you lay under him, why you let him nestle himself inside of you, why you let him hold you against his chest. Katsuki always ran his hands over your cheeks and neck whenever he held you like this, but this…man, only holds himself up with his hands resting beside your head. It’s alien, how he looks at you, how his hips are methodically measured with every thrust, how he kisses you every 8 seconds. You wonder if he’s more robot than Frankenstein monster.

“Why did you come back to me like this?” You ask him one night, barricaded in the bathroom away from him. You can hear his sobs on the other side, his pleading to be let in. He tells you he never wanted to come back if he had to be like this, that he’s sorry, please let him in, he misses the warmth of your skin, he’s never been so cold before, he’s never liked the cold.

“Is this considered cheating?” You ask yourself aloud one night, when Bakugou is forced back to the lab when he becomes too…un-Bakugou. To sleep with a man that is your husband in every way but? Your husband has been dead for a year now, and yet you stroke the chin of the man that tries so hard to be him everyday, but fails so miserably at it every time.

“I’ll come back to you right this time.” Bakugou promises to you when he’s strapped down to leave for the lab and before he’s sedated. But you don’t believe him—you never did. Your husband is dead, and this animated corpse has been nothing but a cheap mockery of everything you’ve lost and something you will never truly get back.

[kdt3al]

Everything reminds me of you. I wonder if anything reminds you of me?

I wish you were here, instead of them.

[sarcastic-clapping]

already seeing people who clearly don’t understand that a lot of us who are upset about what happened to marwa in this episode aren’t upset about the characters’ in-universe morality but the real life misogyny and racism in the way that this plot was handled lol

[dreamsy990]

some of the less nice thoughts about being aroace

extras below the cut

sketch

closeups on my favorite panels

bonus: adios

[daily-crowley]

Crowley Of The Day: gorgeous 😍

(I used up all my hashtags that I couldn’t do my usual GO tags that I always do lol I don’t care)