#sorry this is a bit sad

[moonshadow-thoughts]

Thinking about how I will never belong anywhere. How much I wish I had a relationship, friends, my own little family. And the more time passes the more I realize I will never have that. And it breaks my heart a little more every day.

[irlplasticlamb]

kazia parkerowska aka spider star is an 18 years old polish doomer art student who got bitten by a radioactive spider and then convinced (khe khe forced) into a superhero role by her kooky hippie auntie majka. woohoo. nothing better than to save the world when you don’t give an absolute shit!

prints + merch + commission info

[spoopdeedoop]

WYD WHEN MY GANG PULL UP !!!

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

sorry mia the person who draws ur husband daily is a multishipper

[b4kuch1n]

study of this masterwork

[scarletjams]

you came back…

[diurnalvl]

seven years ago, they used to be friends. almost.

1 / 2 / ?

[sirtadcooper]

What do you need?

I've got half a pouch for my last smoke. That will do for me.

[kindlythevoid]

I have read Fellowship of the Ring more times than I have cared to keep count and every time I read Boromir’s, well, possession for lack of a better word, I have read it in fear, in discomfort, in horror, indifferently.

This was, I think, the first time I read it in pity. I looked at all the plans Boromir was making, how he would save his beloved city, how obstinate he was in his belief that the men of Minas Tirith would not be corrupted when wielding the Ring against Sauron —and I felt sad. He’s waving his hands and hollering and part of him is desperate just for the Ring, of course he is, he’s been traveling beside it with no hope for months, but he’s also desperate for hope. He’s desperate for a chance to save his people, save his brother, save his city.

Moreover, every time he calls out the Elves or the Wizards, you have to remember that he doesn’t know them. All he knows is that he traveled almost a full year to get their advice and they send him on, in his eyes, a hopeless venture. The one hope they give him is Aragorn, who promises to return and help save Minas Tirith with him, but even that all changes once Gandalf dies. They come to Lothlorien and of course it’s a welcome break, but they cannot, or maybe in Boromir’s eyes will not, help his people. And once they leave, Aragorn assumes his role as leader of the Fellowship in Gandalf’s stead more permanently and suddenly even that one, brief, uncertain hope of his is gone. Aragorn will follow Frodo. And it’s almost certain that Frodo will not go to Minas Tirith.

So is it any wonder, really, that tired, desperate, hopeless Boromir, out of his realm, out of his depth, already hanging by a thread when he joins the Fellowship and having been gnawed on by the Ring for months upon months afterwards, finally snaps once it’s clear that he will have to return home empty-handed and almost certain that somewhere far away Sauron is capturing the Ring and killing the companions that he had bonded with? Of course part of the Ring is making him lust for power, but it’s also his only “reliable” (in his mind) source of hope left to save his city.

And so I read Boromir’s (intelligent and thought out, mind you) raving and I don’t feel scared for Frodo, not after reading it so many times and knowing what ultimately happens, but sorrow for Boromir.

[royalarchivist]

To be clear, I'm not going anywhere. I love this community, and although I'm disappointed seeing how certain things have been handled, I still believe in the objective of QSMP: uniting communities and people from all around the world and breaking down language barriers.

Regardless of what happens next, or whether people choose to step away from the series or not, QSMP gave many content creators and their communities a platform to meet other people and make those first cross-cultural connections and friendships. The positive ripple-effects from that aren't going away anytime soon.

[sandeewithtwoe]

Training is important…. But talking about your favourite show is important too

Blue belongs to PopcornPr1nce

Ink belongs to comyet/ myebi

Dream belongs to Jokublog

In case you can’t read my handwriting:

Blue: Huh, that’s weird. Dream is late for training

Ink: Wait, IM not the one late? That’s new!

Blue: Maybe we should check if he’s alright

Blue: Dream, wake up! There’s no time to be a lazybones!

Dream: uh… hey guys! What’s going on-

Blue and Ink: YOU WATCH MY LITTLE PONY?!?

Ink: Please please please tell me you’re a brony too!

Dream: A… brownie?

Blue: OMG you have so much to learn!

[g1ngerbeer]

@tardis-technician hey im still obsessed with the way this post is worded

[animalinvestigator]

happy 8 years

i will transform so i don't die

[coolsvilleprincess]

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!! <3

Wanted to draw a bunch of different pairings so here we go!! I wanted to draw them on how I imagine their dates with each other would go.

Fred and Shaggy started out on a walk but halfway through Fred saw a place they caught a bad guy once and started reminiscing on their good times spent together and who is Shaggy to complain, they definitely went to get food after it though.

Daphne and Fred went to a screening at the Coolsville local cinema where they were showing one of the first ever 3D movies. When the movie is over Fred spends the rest of their date talking about how impressive the improvements to 3D films have been since they were first invented. Daphne doesn't mind that much since she still gets to cuddle and they also probably went to get food after it where Daphne assigns their friends roles in the movie they just watched.

Shaggy and Daphne went to a football game where Shaggy gets to eat very many football game foods such as Hotdogs and whatever else they eat at football games. Daphne isn't even rooting for a team cause at first she wasn't sure about going but it hits halftime and she's caught up in the atmosphere and uses the celebration of any of the teams scoring as an excuse to kiss Shaggy.

Velma and Daphne are working on very important mystery solving and journalism career things on their laptops so they don't have time to go on a date date HOWEVER that will not stop them from flirting through messages as they work. Daphne sends Velma things like videos and songs that remind her of her and Velma can't flirt back so she just sends hearts like a disaster lesbian, good for her tbh.

[lycheedr3ams]

angst no comfort drabble that no one asked for

1.2k words

EmotionallyUnavailable!könig x sad!reader

TW: smut, feelings of loneliness, desperation, low self-esteem, fem!reader just wanting to feel loved, some mentions of predator/prey, slight mentions of canon-typical violence

i'm in my feels rn and this idea came to mind actually scratch that, i don't have emotions

part 1 of Relapse

being the new and pretty member of the task force wasn't as easy as everyone thought it was.

your friends would just swoon over the thought of you being surrounded constantly by tall and muscular soldiers whom they were convinced just fell to their knees at your feet.

it couldn't have been farther from the truth.

yes, you were an incredibly skilled member of the team. you were undoubtedly an essential asset, and everyone respected you. but being surrounded by men so often, even though you were definitely a woman with soft curves and plush breasts, you were usually seen as "one of the guys." it didn't matter how pretty you looked when the mission was over, with your perfume on for once, clean hair, and your favorite outfit. yes, you were pretty, but that didn't seem to really get you anywhere.

if anything, you'd been told that you were intimidating. most men had never met such a strong and determined woman such as yourself, a woman who could kill just about anyone she wanted. men wanted someone easy to manipulate, someone soft and pliable who wouldn't question them. you were the opposite of that.

sure, men on base would certainly stare at you when you wore comfy skirts when you weren't on duty, or when you'd put on makeup when you and the task force went to the bar, but that was it: just stares. no secret love letters tucked under your door, no bouquets of flowers mysteriously appearing in your locker, no advances or conversations that made you feel like a woman again. most of the time, you would pretend not to hear as the men around you constantly engaged in locker-room talk about other women on base. it was easier that way, to pretend like you didn't hear it rather than argue with these pigs until you were seeing red.

that was, until könig joined the team. he always looked at you differently than the other men on base would. he would stare at you, but it didn't always feel like that stare that men give when they're undressing you with their eyes. no, his stare was more one of quiet admiration mixed with desire. but like the others, könig never approached you, opting instead to admire you from afar. but you were growing desperate for a man's touch, having had enough of everyone saying "it'll come when you least expect it." so, you decided to try and approach könig every once in a while, trying to strike up an amiable conversation or two. on the surface, it looked like you two were just engaging in social niceties in order to work better on the task force. that was, until one night, that casual conversation led to you lying naked on his bed, with him staring at you like a hungry animal as his breathing grew heavy.

you didn't want to sleep with someone on your team, until könig. you always wanted to keep your relationships with your coworkers professional, but könig was, as cliche as it sounds, irresistible. especially with the way you felt so desired and wanted when his rough hands pawed at your soft breasts, and the way he'd just tremble in excitement when he saw your wet pussy spread and willing for him. it was the way he'd gently touch your waist when he passed you in the hallway, his nonverbal signal saying everything his mouth couldn't. you'd follow him to his room as inconspicuously as possible, your heart pounding with anticipation, knowing that within 5 seconds of stepping into his room, you would feel desired again.

könig would never kiss you though. that accursed sniper hood always stayed on, and he would never budge about that. the only time you felt his lips or his tongue was when he ate out your pussy like a starved man. sometimes, he would lick your neck or your breasts when he was feeling especially needy, but those times were rare. you never pushed him on it, but you knew the desperate look in your eyes betrayed you. but he never budged.

those nights spent under his sweaty, grunting body as he brought you to heaven and back was like a drug that you always needed more of. his hands on your skin made you feel wanted, his hard cock in your warm pussy made you feel desired, and the way he'd gently clean you with a warm, wet towel afterwards made you feel loved. but don't be mistaken: könig did not love you.

there were a fair share of nights when könig would pass you in the hallway without so much as a glance, nights he preferred to spend by himself. you'd watch him walk past you with wide eyes when you didn't feel his touch, and you wondered if maybe he had gotten tired of you. maybe you forgot to shave that day, you wondered, or maybe you didn't put on enough perfume, or maybe your outfit wasn't cute enough or maybe, worst of all, that könig was finding solace in the arms of another woman that night. you never knew what the reason was, but you always knew that on those nights, you would shed a few tears as you lay alone in your bed and just wanted, needed to feel valued.

könig never treated you any differently during work hours, which you supposed you should be grateful for. he didn't give you preferential treatment, and he also was not mean to you. he had a surprising ability to treat you like nothing ever happened between you two on most nights. he knew that he was your drug, but he never took advantage of that. könig was so professional that it made your head spin. how could he look and treat you the same way the next day after being fully sheathed inside you the night before, trembling and praising your pussy in his native tongue? you could've kissed the ground he walked on if he so asked, but he simply acted like you were nothing more than a coworker when you weren't in his bed.

something that always bothered you was that könig always wore a condom. you never got to feel the smooth, warm skin of his hard cock, except for when it was in your mouth. you knew he could see the disappointment in your eyes whenever he wrapped his cock in that accursed plastic, but he pretended not to. despite being inside you in the most intimate way possible, könig always made sure that there was a boundary between you: a boundary of pliable plastic and the fabric of his hood.

you were addicted to the way his hands and cock made you feel desired, wanted, and valued. he took you animalistically most nights and treated you as politely as ever during the day. you finally felt a woman on the nights he took you in his bed. you finally felt like someone saw you as more than a soldier, as just a human woman needing connection. maybe könig did see you like that, or maybe he didn't. you two never talked much in the bedroom. you were too scared to break whatever unspoken agreement there was between you.

despite your unspoken devotion to him, könig never budged with his boundaries or behavior. so you grew accustomed to feeling the drug of his affection only on the nights he decided to graze your waist in the hallway as he passed, and you always pretended like you were truly wanted during those precious moments.

[taigarrryen]

Abandoned Voices, slowly falling asleep in the dark

It's been a year and a half since he passed and a year since I made this drawing. The sketch was made the day we found out, but I couldn't bring myself to finish it until several months later

I still miss him. I have a feeling I always will