Tumgik
#I Got it From You
chicgeekgirl89 · 1 year
Text
I Get it From You
Fandom: 911 Lone Star
Characters: Carlos Reyes, T.K. Strand, Andrea Reyes, Gabriel Reyes, Lexi Mitchell, OC Cousin Adriana
Rating: K
For @tarlosweeklyprompts Prompt #2: 5+1 of habits that Carlos picked up from TK and 1 that TK got from Carlos. 
A/N: I may have played a little fast and loose with it, but 🤷‍♀️.
Read on AO3
Charm
“I noticed you started wearing this recently,” Andrea says, reaching out to finger the tiny cross hanging around his neck. “It’s pretty.”
“Thanks,” Carlos says a little numbly, eyes trained on T.K.’s nearly frozen, lifeless form. 
“You’ve never been much of a jewelry person,” Andrea says, her unasked question hanging in the air between them. 
“T.K. wears a medallion around his neck,” he tells her.
“I’ve seen it,” Andrea says. “With his number from New York on it.”
Carlos nods. “He says it reminds him that he’s part of something bigger. That he’s got people to watch his back. That being on that crew probably saved his life, because even when he was…” Carlos hesitates, remembering that his mom doesn’t fully know how deep T.K.’s struggles with addiction have gone. “Even when he was struggling, he knew he had a responsibility to be there and help people. He never takes it off.”
“A good reminder of the support he has, then and now,” she says softly.
Carlos reaches up and brushes his fingers over the cross. “After the fire…everything was just so hard. I felt lost, I was kind of spiraling and one day we were out trying to replace stuff and I saw this and I felt like it kind of called to me. It reminds me where I come from. That I have roots, and a purpose.” He looks up and gives her a wan smile. “That’s probably a less religious answer than you were hoping for.”
She shakes her head, leaning forward to cup his cheek. “It’s a perfect answer.”
Pizza
“Oh my god. What the actual fuck are you doing to that pizza?”
Carlos freezes, pizza halfway to his mouth. “Eating it?” he says in confusion.
Adriana looks at him like he’s crazy. “Eating it? You’re murdering it!”
He looks down to see that he’s mindlessly folded the slice in half. “Mind your own business.”
“Um, you turning a delicious slice of Texas’ finest into that hot mess is my business.”
“How about I eat the pizza I bought and paid for and planned to eat by myself tonight however I want and you shut up?”
“Where did you even learn to do that?” she persists. “I’ve never seen you do that before.”
“It’s how T.K. eats his. It’s a New York thing. I must have picked it up from him.”
“Well can you send it back where it belongs? You look ridiculous.”
He starts to pull the pizza box away from her but she grabs on. “No! Okay! I’m sorry! You can commit pizza homicide all you want!”
He rolls his eyes and lets the box go. “It was so nice and quiet before you showed up here unannounced.”
“You’re welcome, by the way, for saving you from that sad loneliness. Where’s T.K.?”” Adriana asks around a mouthful of cheese and peppers. 
“He has a shift.”
She nods in understanding. “Down at Hunk-O-Mania. Gotta get his last dances in before you two get hitched. Nobody wants a lap dance from a guy with a ring on his finger.”
“It is unbelievable that you think that joke is still funny after like three years,” Carlos tells her with a glare.
“God he and Magic Mike both hanging up their tear away pants in the same year,” she says with fake wistfulness. “The stripping world is losing two of its greats.”
“Don’t ever show up here uninvited again.”
Schmutz
“God I love this place,” Lexi says as she bites into a donut. “I will admit I thought gourmet donuts were a stupid idea, but I have seen the light.”
Carlos breaks off a piece of his matcha donut and nods in agreement. “Have you had their mocha one? That’s T.K.’s favorite. They had that lavender one too, a couple weeks ago and it blew my mind.”
“I would usually say flowers and donuts do not go together, but after this?” she holds up the orange cream donut that’s half gone already. “I’m willing to try it.”
They end up cramming their remaining donuts down as fast as they can when a call comes in and they have to go break up some fighting parents at a high school basketball game. It’s nasty and several people have to get seen by EMT’s for bloody noses and black eyes, but no one ends up pressing charges, so they head back to the station to do paperwork before their shift ends.
“You’ve got some donut schmutz on your collar,” Carlos tells her when they get inside and the harsh florescent lighting of the station illuminates them both.
She raises an eyebrow. “Some what?”
“Schmutz,” Carlos says. “It’s like…dirt. Mess.” 
“Somebody’s been hanging out with their fiancé too much,” she tells him with a laugh as she reaches for a tissue to wipe off her uniform. “Are you headed home to cook up a brisket tonight too? Going to hail a cab to get you there?”
“Shut up,” Carlos says, feeling his face redden. 
“Are you going to stop smiling at people in the store too? And start cutting people off in traffic?”
“Oh my god stop.”
“T.K.’s east coast ways have rubbed right off on you. I would have thought the Texas blood ran deeper than that. Oh god,” she puts on a fake horrified look, “do you think Chipotle is real Tex-Mex now?”
He shoots her a glare. “Don’t you have paperwork to do?”
“I’m teasing Reyes,” she tells him. “I think it’s nice actually. Being with the right person should change you a little. And you and T.K. have changed each other in all the right ways.”
She sends him a smile and starts on the pile on her desk, leaving Carlos to contemplate the warm glow her words have put into his chest.
Team
“Carlitos, thank you for coming on such short notice,” Andrea says when Carlos steps through the front door of his parents’ house.
“No problem,” Carlos says. “Sorry to hear Frankie is sick.”
One of their ranch hands had called out unexpectedly and Carlos was a quick and easy replacement. It wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind for his day off, but family duty wasn’t something he ignored if he could help it. “Where’s Dad?”
“He’s out back,” Andrea tells him. “I texted him and told him to come up to the house. He’ll be here any minute.”
Carlos shrugs out of his jacket and hangs it on a peg by the door before turning around to give his mom a hug. Andrea’s face immediately drops and she sighs. “Oh Carlitos.”
“What?” he asks, confused by her bizarre response.
She shakes her head. “You’re wearing a Mets shirt.”
“Yeah, I think T.K. brought it back from New York the last time he went out to see Jonah,” Carlos says, glancing down at the offending blue t-shirt.
“Carlos, you know how your father feels.”
“It’s a shirt Mom. It’s what I had on when you called.”
“You couldn’t have taken a few minutes to change?”
“You made it sound kind of urgent,” Carlos says in annoyance.
The back door opens and Gabriel walks in, a smile on his face. As soon as he catches sight of Carlos he sours immediately. “What are you wearing?”
“A t-shirt that my fiancé gave me,” Carlos says.
Gabriel’s voice goes low, dark like thunder. “In this house we root for the Astros. And only the Astros.”
“It’s a shirt dad. It’s not a big deal,” Carlos says. “T.K. likes when I rep his team.”
“Don’t tell me he’s got you cheering for them too?” Gabriel says, looking outraged. “Oh my god, where did we go wrong?”
“They have some really good pitchers dad. You respect a good team, they’re a good team.”
Gabriel scoffs. “I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation.”
“I can’t either,” Carlos tells him.
“Enough Gabriel,” Andrea calls from where she’s returned to the kitchen. “He came to help. Leave him alone.”
“What you do in your own home is your business,” Gabriel says tightly, ignoring her. “But I will not allow those colors to be worn in my house.”
Carlos claps him on the shoulder. “Good thing we’re going to be outside then.”
Friends
“Hey babe!” T.K. calls as he walks through their door.
The TV immediately turns off and Carlos whirls around to look at him over the back of the couch, eyes wide and innocent. “Hey,” he says back.
T.K. pauses, eying him closely. Carlos is trying for nonchalant, but T.K. can smell guilt in the air. He sets down his bag and puts his hands on his hips. “What were you just watching Carlos?”
“A documentary,” Carlos says quickly.
“A documentary.”
“Yep.” Carlos pops the “p” in an effort to seem casual.
T.K. dives over the back of the couch and snatches the remote out of his fiancé’s hand, flicking the TV back on. “A documentary about six friends living in New York in the mid-nineties?!” he yells.
“Okay, hear me out,” Carlos says, holding up his hands placatingly.
“You watched without me!”
“I didn’t mean to!” Carlos cries. “I was watching a documentary and then it rolled into the episode when it ended and—“
“You could have turned it off!” T.K. tells him sternly.
“I was going to!” Carlos says. “But T.K., Chandler and Monica?! What the hell?!”
“You said you didn’t even like it,” T.K. points the remote at his chest. “You said it was ‘fine.’ And then you went and betrayed my trust.”
“Well…I got a little invested,” Carlos says sheepishly.
“I’m glad my good taste in television is finally rubbing off on you,” T.K. grumbles. “But next time you decide to watch a pivotal episode of one of America’s greatest sit-coms, you’d better wait for me.”
Dinner
Carlos is so tired he’s not sure he’s going to make it down the hallway. Every part of his body aches to be in bed though, so he trudges onward, one foot in front of the other until he finally fumbles his way through the door. 
He can’t remember the last time a shift was this bad. They hadn’t had a single second to slow down, one call after another, nearly all of them resulting in a physical altercation or take down, and the final call of the day had been a shootout at a bank with multiple casualties. He’s bruised and sore and completely wiped out.
His bag hits the floor and he’s tempted to drop down next to it, but the next thing he knows arms are wrapping around him and T.K. is pulling him tightly into his chest. “Hey,” he breathes into Carlos’ hair. “I was so worried.”
The 126 hadn’t been called into the bank situation, but T.K. must have found out about it from someone because he’d sent multiple concerned texts. Carlos had answered as soon as he could, but there was a big difference between being reassured in a text and being reassured in person.
“I’m okay,” Carlos mumbles into T.K.’s shoulder.
T.K. pulls back and gives him a critical look, fingers brushing over a bruise on Carlos’ forehead and then a minor gash on his arm. “I’m glad you’re home,” he says, a silent acknowledgement that Carlos isn’t actually okay, but he will be now that he’s here.
“Me too,” Carlos sighs. His eyes feel like sandpaper and he desperately wants a shower, but he’s not sure he’ll stay awake long enough.
“Are you hungry?” T.K. asks. “I made dinner.”
“I think I’ll just—“ Carlos stops his response abruptly as he looks at the kitchen. “T.K. what—?”
Every flat surface is covered in pots and pans, cooking utensils, or food. The sink is piled high with dirty dishes and something is still bubbling on the stove.
“I um, I might have been a little anxious waiting for you to get home,” T.K. says sheepishly.
“So you cooked enough for an army?” Carlos asks.
“I’m going to clean it up,” T.K. says quickly. “I know the dirty dishes stress you out, and I planned to have it all done but then the fish took longer than I thought it would and the sauce wouldn’t thicken so…”
Carlos’ brain is still trying to catch up with what he’s seeing. “You don’t usually cook when you’re stressed.”
T.K. shrugs. “I couldn’t sit still so I asked myself, ‘what would Carlos do’? And then I did it. It’s surprisingly effective.” His face softens and he runs a gentle hand over Carlos’ curls. “I can’t fix your day, but I can at least make sure you’re fed. That’s the Reyes Family Motto, right?”
Carlos’ face relaxes into tender smile. “Yeah. Something like that.”
122 notes · View notes
jortsbian · 4 months
Text
the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again
#yeehaw#1k#5k#10k#posts that got cursed. blasted. im making these tag updates after... 19 hours?#also i have been told it should say speech loss bc nonverbal specifically refers to the permanent state. did not know that!#unfortunately i fear it is so far past containment that even if i edited it now it would do very little. but noted for future reference#edit 2: nvm enough ppl have come to rb it from me directly that i changed the wording a bit. hopefully this makes sense#also. in case anyone is curious. though i doubt anyone who is commenting these things will check the original tags#1) my friend did not do this on purpose in any way. it was not intended to distract me or to hit on me. im a lesbian hes a gay man. cmon now#he felt very bad about it afterwards. i thought it was hilarious but it was very embarrassed and apologetic#2) “why didn't he use 🫵🏼?” didn't exist yet. “why didn't he use 🆗?” dunno! we'd been using a lot of hand emojis. 👌🏼 is an ok sign#like it makes sense. it was just a silly mixup. also No i did not invent 👉🏼👌🏼 as a gesture meaning sex. do you live under a rock#3) nonspeaking episodes are a recurring thing in my life and have been since i was born. this is not a quirky one-time thing#it is a pervasive issue that is very frustrating to both myself and the people i am trying to communicate with. in which trying to speak is#extremely distressing and causes very genuine anguish. this post is not me making light of it it's just a funny thing that happened once#it's no different than if i post about a funny thing that happened in conjunction w a physical disability. it's just me talking abt my life#i don't mind character tags tho. those can be entertaining. i don't know what any of you are talking about#Except the ppl who have said this is pego/ryu or wang/xian. those people i understand and respect#if you use it as a writing prompt that's fine but send it to me. i want to see it#aaaand i think that's it. everyday im tempted to turn off rbs on it. it hasn't even been a week
143K notes · View notes
Text
I'm a cryptid in Stardew valley. I live on the outskirts of town. I disappear for days on end, purchasing daily one-way tickets to the calico desert. Nobody knows where I go while I'm there. Can occasionally be found fishing at random spots throughout town. I am never not running on at least one triple shot espresso. I take the abandoned minecarts to get around and am frequently seen disappearing into the sewers. I carry a sword for some reason. Once every week or two I will stride into your bedroom to deliver you your favorite meal. I'm a self-made millionaire. I attend all the town events and will go to your concert in the next town over. I have donated approximately 2583 items to the local museum and singlehandedly revitalized the town community center. There are rumors I can talk to junimos. I'm friends with the local wizard
15K notes · View notes
emberglowfox · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
birds of a feather
36K notes · View notes
tariah23 · 21 days
Text
The manga industry, especially JUMP, needs to hurry up and do away with weekly scheduling for mangaka. There needs to better regulations put into place for their health and safety because this is pitiful. Two weeks - monthly updates should’ve already been the standard for the manga industry at this point. These money grabbers will only continue to put the lives of these artists at stake for the sake of capitalism unless some serious changes are implemented.
12K notes · View notes
riaki · 4 months
Text
i literally cant stop thinkin’ about highschoolbully!gojo who used to be your ride or die ‘til he started getting attention from those popular jock type guys who are always assholes to everyone. and him being.. well, him means he preens under attention no matter who it’s from, so naturally he started to gravitate towards that group and their little troop of cheerleading fangirls. and then he started distancing from you and without either of you really realizing it, you’ve slipped between the other’s fingers. but the way he acts towards you makes you think he let you fall without moving a muscle to slow you down.
soon enough, a year swings by and by the end of it he’s gone from your life, save as just another face in the gaggle of boys who make crude jokes and laugh at smart kids and pop milk cartoons during lunch just for the hell of it. but you’re minding your own business, ‘cause you’re mature enough to realize that people come and go, no matter how close you might’ve been and you think it’s unfortunate that so many memories could be thrown aside in a blink of an eye, but it makes a lot of sense when you walk past satoru and his friends bullying some random kid. you don’t know him, but you’ve heard enough to realize it’s his girlfriend satoru’s flirting with while his ‘gang’ kick at the kid. and it’s sickening, but you don’t say anything when you walk by.
and when you don’t ever see the kid afterward and catch the dark eyebags under his girlfriend’s eyes, you come to the cruel realization that satoru isn’t the boy who’d bandage the scrape on your knee you got from tripping in the playground or buy you a soda because he’s noticed your sweat when you were walking home and you don’t have any money left on you.
it’s a glass half empty, half full type of situation. on the one hand, you don’t have him anymore. on the other hand, you don’t have him anymore. that is, you lost your best friend, but you’ve also lost someone who has the potential to absolutely ruin your life. and you don’t know whether to be glad or not, so you just mind your own business even if it hurts a little when he ignores you, stops tossing paper at your head in class (unless it’s to embarrass you) and stops walking you to and from school.
but the cherry on top of the shit cake is that he doesn't get it. so when he approaches you in the library one day after satiating the need to tear pages from books and make them into paper airplanes to throw at people, he doesn't seem to understand why you try to ignore him, or put off his attempts to hold a convo. but the worst part is that he's just sleazy and clueless about it. it's like he took an eraser and wiped every single year of your friendship off the chalkboard with one fell swipe, and you wish he'd done that too to the less-than-appropriate messages he and his friends had written towards one of your classmates.
he doesn't understand why you're hesitant to talk, and that's what makes it the worst. he always thinks he's in the right, and he keeps setting you off and it sucks that he knows exactly what sets you off. "i'm an asshole? what're you talking about? really, you're in over your head. you never change." he laughs, and you ignore him, and he gets bored, and he's about to leave when he spots your wallet open next to your book, on the table. there's a polaroid peeking out, and he recognizes the tufts of white hair to be him. but there's a weird feeling in his chest, and he thinks he gets it from you, so he leaves because he thinks you're weird.
and it goes on; you practically become a nobody in satoru's eyes, because of that weird, weird feeling you give him. it's unfamiliar and he's never gotten it before and he doesn't like it. but it's unavoidable when your professor pairs you two for the end-of-term project. and of course, you're ready to do all the work, because that's how it always was between you when you were kids. but sometimes he'd surprise you by helping, and he'd show you that he was actually intelligent just to earn your praise because he liked it. but he ignored you, and you did everything, and it would've been okay if not for his friends egging him on to present your entire project when the day came and leave you with no content for a grade.
that's the first time it hits him: does he really want to do that? but it's not like it'll be the first time; you've always taken the hits for him, because you're naturally smart and you'll pick yourself back up in no time, and you get why he does it, so it'll be okay. so he agrees, and he enjoys the time he gets to spend with you through it, but the nagging weird feeling that blooms in his chest like a pesky weed only grows stronger. that's all his feelings ever seem to do around you.
but before you know it, presentation day swings around. you had coffee this morning (on his card), and you're ready enough to shoot him a small smile that sends his heart a-flutter. so you go up, feeling up to the task and ready until— he starts talking, and talking, and talking, and people don't think that he's taking your words out of your mouth because he's intelligent when he wants to make you praise him and you don't get the chance to get a word in and you notice the guys are laughing and hitting each other's shoulders to themselves in the upper rows and before you know it it's over. people are clapping but moreso they're looking at you and they're whispering— but it's terribly loud and they don't bother to hide it. they call you things that shouldn't bother you but they do anyway, because it's satoru's fault, and you're such a fool for thinking you could have it your way again.
so you leave class early, excusing yourself and ignoring the way your professor gives you a distasteful look and scribbles something next to your name. you're out the door in a second, neglecting your bags and satoru's a little lost because— didn't he just do good? people were clapping, and laughing with him and not at him, but it's attention either way so he doesn't mind. so why do you? why did you look at him like he stabbed you in the back? and his friends are calling his name, and he wishes he could chase after you and do something but he doesn't.
and it's a little sickening what they do next; one of their girls grabbed your bags and tossed it to them, and they've started rifling through it as if they own it, tearing up your shit and dumping everything onto the ground and he's kind of just... glued to the chair by his feelings. his heart feels like it's been patched together and the weird fuzzy feeling he had in his chest that's been cultivating has extinguished to be replaced with something he realizes he's only ever felt when it comes to you— guilt.
he's so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't realize his friend is silently offering him something— nudging his side to get his attention. he takes it without really realizing he moved his hand, and his silent friend with the gauges in his ears and the dark hair gets up and leaves without another word. when satoru looks down, he realizes he's been given your wallet. "the reward for betraying your baby," they call it. like all you're worth is the money in your account.
he's a little curious. that's how he's always been; asking you questions, rummaging through your stuff, laughing sheepishly and shaking it off when you caught him red-handed. so he opens it up, ignoring your sad little cards and the funny look on your license. he's looking for something, subconsciously; but he doesn't find it. there's no white tuft of hair to suggest his presence in your life; just empty black leather. nothing else.
and he doesn't see you after. or the following day. or the following weeks; weeks that turn into months that turn into the end of school and he's graduating but you're not by his side. and neither are his so called 'friends'; the only thing he has to their name is your own ruined friendship. it's a shame; he feels alone. very alone. no fuzzy weird feeling, not even that thing people call guilt. no attention to chase, and connections are ever harder to make. it shouldn'tve mattered that much, right? it was just a presentation. why wouldn't you just come back to him like you always did? were you not still friends...?
but the blood is still on his hands, and he doesn't manage to ever wash it off. guilt has a way of festering; of weighing on the heart 'till there's nothing left to feel or think but unfortunate circumstance and what could've been done differently. it just sucks that he never tried hard enough to keep you from slipping between his grasp. and now, he doesn't even have a polaroid to your friendship's name.
pt.2
10K notes · View notes
astrhae · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
crowley used the metal tool in season 1 to start time, and we learn that he's used it first to start space. to create the stars -- he still remembers how. he still remembers all of heaven's passwords: in the book crowley is described as an optimist because he has the "utter surety... that the universe would look after him". not god, but the universe. and of course he does: he helped create it and he's looking after it, too.
think about it: aziraphale had a sword, but crowley is about to face satan who wants to destroy the world, and crowley's only weapon is a tool of creation
19K notes · View notes
creative-clawmarks · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I like to think that even other machines think V1 is a freak.
10K notes · View notes
ruushes · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
assorted bat practice... on top of everything he has the audacity to be hard for me to draw
6K notes · View notes
cozylittleartblog · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
what if there was a plague doctor that was so so so cute (and was also secretly a bird themself)
12K notes · View notes
the-lions-art-cave · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
very rough doodle of sunny and glory, loosely based on the designs of the cancelled netflix show
4K notes · View notes
milimeters-morales · 9 months
Text
okay found a picture that gave me so much. Miles or Ganke (most likely Ganke) has a skateboard (and aren’t the fairy lights cute? I like to think Miles did that)
Tumblr media
and they got the googly-eye rice cooker, hot water boiler*, the spices(?)/sauces, the fully stocked mini-fridge, AND a record player (that’s for sure Aaron’s influence on Miles)
Tumblr media
AND look at Ganke’s setup. It’s crazy. There’s no way Ganke985 isn’t real. How much did this shit cost.
Tumblr media
Their whiteboard that I didn’t show is also very cool, the little “fighting godzilla” drawings under all those equations is perfect. There’s also some shelves for shoes, really love that Miles actually is a sneakerhead :3
11K notes · View notes
paper-mario-wiki · 4 months
Text
theres a million blogs these days with names like "puppygirl-macrobulge" and "netflix-for-girl-balls" and whatnot who make 150 posts a day like "theyre all out of 'piss from a girl who's been holding it in all day playing factorio' at trader joes, whats the fcuking point of it all" and i gotta say, i didnt expect that to be its entire own genre of posting in the 2020s.
7K notes · View notes
zillychu · 30 days
Text
I've seen a couple people saying they're jumping ship for [other big socmed] after the AI announcement here, but like. Guys. Friends. You do realize all the other sites have been silently working with big AI companies for a while now. Bluesky has not implemented any acknowledgement or protection, and the CEO worked with crypto for years. They're just not broadcasting it or giving you an option to help remove your work from automatic scraping. Cohost has implemented similar levels of prevention compared to Tumblr.
I greatly prefer the transparency and the tiny bit of protection, no matter how flimsy. Tumblr is pretty awful, but it's still better than everything else so far. Which sucks but until we burn down the plutocracy, this isn't gonna be escapable.
(Also, no Tumblr did not quietly sneak this in. They literally announced it before implementing.)
And my thoughts on the CEO being... himself.
5K notes · View notes
bumblebeebats · 1 year
Text
Top 3 ways to pronounce "worms":
woims (old-timey New York gangster)
wurrums (Scottish)
weuhrms (bad French accent like the narrator from spongebob)
44K notes · View notes
Tumblr media
#selfie bee#good evening friends!! how are you doing! C:#I'm very very sleepy I got a new ikea office chair and I build it all myself#I think it went okay! I don't think I pulled the back screw tight enough and now the back is a bit loose#I can probably fix it but I can also ignore it for the next 18 years#thats how long the old chair held up!! in germany it could now drink vodka and drive a car!!#not at the same time that is illegal! not at the same time!! (❁´▽`❁)*✲゚*#but the day is not over yet my uncle asked me for a big art quest and I do not want to disappoint#he wants a muppet tattoo and asked me to draw it#my uncle has started to get tattoos a few months ago#as far as I know he has now gotten 3 note clefs 3 stars a flower and multiple birds#he also started getting piercings but so far I managed not to know exactly where#I think tattoos are super cool (´。・v・。`) I wish I had a good idea for a tattoo but the last time I was very sure about getting a tattoo#it was heath ledgers face as the joker#at that point I was 12 and would not see the actual movie for two more years#a muppet tattoo is a way better idea!! he asked for the count van count! that is also one of my top 3 muppets ₍՞◌′ᵕ‵ू◌₎♡#I always thought I knew a lot about muppet lore but since I started looking up muppet pictures I think there are still a lot of secrets#can the muppets from the Sesame Street actually leave the Sesame Street?#I think Kermit is both on the Muppet Show and on Sesame Street but he is also like the boss muppet#he might have special abilities#I hope you're having a good day friends!! C:#I think I'll post a Sherlock comic later this week#miss you!! ♥♥♥
9K notes · View notes