her eyes were the sickly green of the sky before a tornado, and to his horror he discovered she could throw cows around just as easily
to his horror? weak shit. outta my way gayboy im boutta get it
all of our trobles seem so small from up here
You hear a soft squeaking coming from a nearby tree stump. When you lean down to take a peek, you find a bat with a torn wing. You take it home, since there are no vets for miles around. Little do you know that it is a vampire bat who is struggling to turn into his human form.
The hoes are unimpressed with your sarcastic detachment, and are enchanted with my sincere wonder. Writhe like the worm you are.
theglowpt2-deactivated20200101
every word out of guillermo del toro’s mouth is the most hardcore thing i’ve ever heard and he says it all so casually like he doesn’t even realize how much of a gothic visionary he is
tonyahardingapologist
“Since childhood, I’ve been faithful to monsters. I have been saved and absolved by them, because monsters, I believe, are patron saints of our blissful imperfection, and they allow and embody the possibility of failing”
I STILL THINK ABOUT THIS EVERY DAY OF MY LIFE
Yo okie Guillermo has some of the best quotes and lines I’ve ever heard, here are just a few of his quotes that have me questioning life:
“What is a ghost? A tragedy condemned to repeat itself time and again? A moment of pain, perhaps. Something dead which still seems to be alive. An emotion suspended in time. Like a blurred photograph. Like an insect trapped in amber.”
“I knew that monsters were far more gentle and more desirable than the monsters living inside ‘nice people.’ Accepting that you are a monster gives you the leeway to not behave like one. When you deny being a monster, you behave like one.”
“When you see something or experience something extraordinary, you can’t go back to normal… I think that that’s the way I see the supernatural-as happening in mundane circumstances or to people who are unprepared”
“To learn what we fear is to learn who we are. Horror defines our boundaries and illuminates our souls”
“Any legend, any creature, any symbol we ever stumble on, already exists in a vast cosmic reservoir where archetypes wait. Shapes looming outside our Platonic cave. We naturally believe ourselves clever and wise, so advanced, and those who came before us so naïve and simple…when all we truly do is echo the order of the universe, as it guides us…”
And the last but certainly not the least:
“In fairy tales, monsters exist to be a manifestation of something that we need to understand, not only a problem we need to overcome, but also they need to represent, much like angels represent the beautiful, pure, eternal side of the human spirit, monsters need to represent a more tangible, more mortal side of being human: aging, decay, darkness and so forth. And I believe that monsters originally, when we were cavemen and you know, sitting around a fire, we needed to explain the birth of the sun and the death of the moon and the phases of the moon and rain and thunder. And we invented creatures that made sense of the world: a serpent that ate the sun, a creature that ate the moon, a man in the moon living there, things like that. And as we became more and more sophisticated and created sort of a social structure, the real enigmas started not to be outside. The rain and the thunder were logical now. But the real enigmas became social. All those impulses that we were repressing: cannibalism, murder, these things needed an explanation. The sex drive, the need to hunt, the need to kill, these things then became personified in monsters. Werewolves, vampires, ogres, this and that. I feel that monsters are here in our world to help us understand it. They are an essential part of a fable.”
A garden shop sometimes gifts mysterious tree sapplings to customers, but they always wither away. You receive one and plant it…and it ends up flourishing.
You weren’t sure what to make of it at first.
Like, you weren’t really that one person with the big green thumb yet somehow caring for this one tree was easier than all the times you ended up letting your windowsill flowers wilt.
It always popped into your mind, even when you were at work or out with friends. Somehow you were always aware of the sapling in your backyard and the times you go to water it or refresh the soil (that last one you learned from your mom after she popped by)
It grew quite well, as far as you could tell. You made sure to look out for anything supicious, checking the branches and pruning where needed. You didn’t know most of this at the start, had to look most of it up on the internet, but this time you oddly enough had the focus and mind of doing just that.
Not even the petunias your grandmother sent you last year got that same kind of attention.
Yet no matter how big it began to grow or how thick its trunk became, it never boasted even a single leaf.
You were, understandibly, a little confused.
Leaves are the parts doing the bulk of photosynthesis, right? But then why isn’t your tree green like all the others? Not even the sprouts where green!
But it grew as you cared. Grew as the years passed by and you lived your life.
It was five years after you planted it that you were called to the hospital. Your grandmother had a heart attack and was in intensive care.
She passed away a week later.
When you came back from the funeral you found that one branch on the tree had suddenly sprouted bright yellow leaves.
Your grandmother was never seen without her favorite yellow scarf that she’d knitted herself.
You cried and decided to put a small shrine in remembrance next to the tree.
Barely the next year your grandfather passed away, a combination of old age, bad health and heartbreak. Blue leaves like the old cardigan his wife had made for him bloomed right next to the yellow branch.
A decade passed as you mourned and moved on, making new friends at your new job and tentatively looking back into dating. Bonds grew and life was turning out great.
Then there was a shooting and your childhood friend who you stayed in touch with died.
A branch, curled carefully down enough you could reach out, bloomed the pink she loved to always have with her, all differrent shades like how she never cared what kind of pink as long as it could be identified as such.
You tied the old headband she’d given you when you were kids, also pink, around the thickest part of the branch and allowed yourself the comfort to cry for a friendship lost.
A few years later loss struck in the form of your father. A work accident that is doubted to have been a real accident. You weren’t phased much by the tan leaves on the branch that was intertwined with another.
(Much later on you would smile at seeing the other branch bloom your mother’s delicate pastel red)
As you lived on, experiencing the happiness and sadness and anger and love that so many seem to sometimes take for granted, on rare occasion a new branch would bloom as you went to funerals of close relations. None ever were exactly the same even when the people that passed claimed a like or love for the same colour.
Only as you began to grow old, your partner showing the same signs of age as you know you are, that you told your tale and showed the tree in the back of your aging home. Your children loved the different colours and enjoyed playing under its already somewhat thick canopy.
You looked up at the tree and can see, with an evergrowing acceptance of the timer ticking away in your head, the two branches close together. One will bloom with the bright purple of your partner’s beloved pen colour.
You knew, later on as your heart slowed and you are surrounded by your children and their own loved ones, that the other branch will bloom as well.
It ends up being the only one close to hosting the vibrant green leaves of the forests in your dreams.
“The fortress was abandoned by those who preferred to live in places that were more pleasant and certainly more accessible.”
Finished wind waker the other day
i've never played this, is ganon just everyone's dad and they were all playing pretend?
Uuuuhhhh yeah yeah he was just minding the kids, took them to the beach to look at some birds mhmm mhmm
❝ PERSISTENT LOVE. ❞
tag me when used!
— "Say it, you love me."
— "Why do you insist so much?" "Because I want to hear it from that pretty mouth of yours."
— "Admit it! You've liked me all along!"
— "Why would I want someone other than you?"
— "No matter how much you try to deny it, I know your heart."
— "I can't love anyone else but you."
— "Please don't push me away, I love you."
— "Don't you get tired of doing this?" "Never, not when it's about you."
— "Look me in the eyes this time and say you don't feel anything for me."
— "Why are you here?" "I won't give up on you."
— "Do you want me?" "I've always wanted you."
— "You say you don't like me, but your cheeks are so warm right now."
— "No matter how hard I try, you're always on my mind."
— "I don't think I could ever let you go."
— "Why do you love me?" "Why do you question my love?"
— "Don't you get it? I only want you."
— "You're really stubborn." "And you're really kissable."
— "Are you insane? You're soaking wet!" "I don't care, I had to come see you."
— "My heart only wants you."
— "Stop ignoring what's going on between us."
— "Why me?" "Why not you?"
The first page of a short comic, titled- As The World Goes On Its Wicked Way- I’m dropping later. About an innkeeper waiting for a wayward beloved to come home.
This is my interpretation of the temple of time after the calamity set in the Zelda tears of the kingdom world:)
[image id: a four-page comic. it is titled “do not stand at my grave and weep” after the poem by mary elizabeth frye. the first page shows paleontologists digging up fossils at a dig. it reads, “do not stand at my grave and weep. i am not there. i do not sleep.” page two features several prehistoric creatures living in the wild. not featured but notable, each have modern descendants: horses, cetaceans, horsetail plants, and crocodilians. it reads, “i am a thousand winds that blow. i am the diamond glints on snow. i am the sunlight on ripened grain. i am the gentle autumn rain.” the third page shows archaeopteryx in the treetops and the skies, then a modern museum-goer reading the placard on a fossil display. it reads, “when you awaken in the morning’s hush, i am the swift uplifting rush, of quiet birds in circled flight. i am the soft stars that shine at night. do not stand at my grave and cry.” the fourth page shows a chicken in a field. it reads, “i am not there. i did not die” / end id]
a comic i made in about 15 hours for my school’s comic anthology. the theme was “evolution”