#so regardless thank u !!!

[maskerat]

Slowly just getting back to traditional art, for some reason digital doesn't feel right for me at the moment.

Anyway, have Army in Pink from Lob-Corp, one of my favourite abnos, I think he's cute.

[orcelito]

one thing i noticed looking back at the start of trimax volume 12... we get that whole sequence where Vash is standing at the precipice & thinking about his past

i'd like to draw attention to This bit:

i didnt notice it when i first read it, but... that sleeve bit there? he's holding his arm. we don't get to see what he's actually thinking, but he's holding the bicep of his left arm - the arm he lost. considering he's standing in wait of Knives for their final battle, he's clearly remembering the time he lost it. to Knives.

(more notes under the cut)

he proceeds to think through the mistakes he's made and the people he's met... but something noteworthy that I find really interesting is that anime-only characters are present in the lineup.

take these two pages.

it's the sheriff lady and the rich dude from 98 episode 2

the plant engineer from Lost July, episode 6

the fake Vash the Stampede & Frank Marlon (not the other Marlon we meet in the manga, who's his grandson) from episode 3

the boomerang guy (who is in the manga Technically, though we didnt see vash meet him) & the blonde gunman from episode 1. and the dancing girl & her guy friend from episode 11.

all "filler", supposedly, but Vash knows them. the implication of this being that Vash has had some amount of those adventures even in the manga (though the different Marlons makes that part a little more muddied - maybe he knew Frank Marlon in a similar way to the anime, though the girls couldn't have been there in this version if he's the current Marlon's grandfather).

also please just admire this pic of meryl and milly bc i love them so much

anyways.

the spreads continue until we reach this iconic page:

Vash went through his memories of all the people he met to steel himself for the battle to come, but these are the last two he thinks about. The two he arguably holds dearest in his heart, and the two whose losses hurt him the most. He remembers Rem as she was, smiling lovingly down at him. He remembers Wolfwood as he left him. Just a grave.

Their memory calms him. He's thinking of the reasons he's fighting, and they're the most important ones.

Bolstered by the memories of the people he loves and the mistakes he's made, he's ready to face his fate.

(all pages from @trigun-manga-overhaul)

[jils-things]

commission for @heart-of-aspiration!! thank u for letting me draw the gang ever ehehhe 💚💚

if you're interested, here's my commission sheet!

[stupid-and-cute-are-enough]

it WAS 1:30 am and now i've got finals in mere hours so obviously this is how i should be spending my time. behold: screaming and crying publicly over @get-rammed's montgomery gator doodles

starting off STRONG with this beauty:

THE FULL-BODY HUG???? THE SKIN ON SKIN CONTACT??? one thing you MUST know about me is that i am WEAK for when the bigger partner wraps themselves around their s/o WEAK I SAY

(also monty's nose????? it's absolutely darling and so perfect for his lil face)

KEEPING ON THEME WITH WERE-MONTY

specifically the face................ he looks so dejected...................so tired................ so sad...................baby has had a ROUGH night and i desperately want them to be better 😭😭😭 (the HAND HOLD???? THE TEAR STAINS??? AUGHH)

we already KNOW how i feel about this one after all i'm that motherfucker who was so consumed by this doodle that i asked ram if i could clean it up and otherwise go insane over it we already KNOW that this doodle has me on my fucking KNEES

again THE FULL BODY HOLD??????? THE SAD EYES???? HE HOLDS ONTO THEM LIKE THEYRE SOMETHING PRECIOUS 😭 monty is trapped in a life he pretty much hates and they've gotta be one of his only sources of comfort 😭😭😭😭 i imagine the anon has to pull wayyy more hours once monty becomes a glamrock so they're constantly exhausted but desperately wants to be there for their struggling friend and vice versa for monty (and how pissed monty must get w/the virus bc why the fuck should he feel bad for them when it's HIS life that got screwed over?)

everything i just said applies to this one too except with more melancholy bc it feels like when you have to wait for your loved one to fall asleep so you can slip away quietly (but, of course, monty is holding on, so he'll be disappointed sooner rather than later)

:(

MOVING FUCKING ON TO THIS NEXT ONE OHHHH MY GOD YOU GUYS PREPARE YOURSELF

THE SNOOT RUBS???? THE HAND ON ANON'S CHEST???? THE BLUSH????? THE WAY HE RUFFLES HOW OWN HAIR 😭😭 GIVE IT BACK!!!!!!!!!!!! GIVE IT BACK RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM GOING TO BEAT UP MR. FAZBEAR ENTERTAINMENT HIMSELF GIVE MONTY HIS HAIR BACK!!!!!!

but seriously this one is just SO cute 😭 gator golf monty were such simpler times and it DESTROYS me knowing where they go from here :( ik both of them heal together in the end but they hurt so much between those two points AUGHH THEY DONT DESERVE IT 😭😭

GOING BACK TO WERE-MONTY

THE SHIRT??? THE SKIN-ON-SKIN CONTACT???? literally what else is there to say i rest my case moving on

THE CASUAL INTIMACY????? THE SKIN ON SKIN????? THE ANONS SILLY LIL SMILE AND ALL THE LOVE BITES?? look im down bad for monty as much as everyone else here but good LORD there's something so tender about non-sexual touch (esp with minimal clothing) 😭😭 its so special to me............. they're so happy to have each other i am ILL

iconic

SCREAMING AND CRYING THEY'RE SO SILLY TOGETHER!!!! LET THEM BE SILLY AGAIN THEY DESERVE IT!!!!

look at them they're up to MISCHIEF they're up to NO GOOD <3 and freddy is RAPIDLY APPROACHING (side note SWEETS??? 😭😭 i love all of monty's nicknames but something about "sweets" makes me AUGH................. it's so cute...............)

BONUS:

MORGAN <333333 WHAT A MASSIVE W TO TRANS-MASCS EVERYWHERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! wouldn't wanna be represented by ANYONE else

feddy <3

last but not least the comment i left (with my user and pfp blocked out bc you don't get to know me like that) on part one of project starlight that strikes fear into me to this very day. ignore my spelling mistakes i was going through it

i would've also grabbed a screenshot of the monty plush bc i feel special every time i look at one bc ram thought my comic was cool and it instantly became a core memory but this post has taken LONG ENOUGH!!! SLAP A SHIPPING LABEL ON THIS BITCH AND SEND IT OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[lilyrizzy]

just a little something based of a csi fic i read 100 years ago, but cannot for the life of me find online to give credit to. if anyone recognises, pls do let me know!

outsider pov

cw: crash aftermath, breif mention of parent (guess who lol) being homophobic and a general dick

Sophie had always hoped that lighting a candle in church and crossing herself at the race track would be enough to appease God. Maybe she had angered him, missing so many Sundays this year to spend instead with her son, at his church; the track. Maybe it is just that God gives his hardest challenges to his loyalist followers, something she has heard repeated over and over since she was a child, something she taught to her own children.

Either way, watching the stewards pull her son’s unconscious body from a race car, it’s enough to have her wondering if there was more she could have done.  

Sophie lets herself into Max’s apartment with an easy twist of his key in the lock. Easier than she remembers, but then she’s struggling to recall when she was last here. The most recent times she’s seen Max, it’s been in the Netherlands or at different race tracks around the world. He says he likes to come home to see her, and it’s always warmed her heart too thoroughly, the idea that her house is home to him despite him never growing up there, for her to question that.

Now, she wonders if there wasn’t more of an ulterior motive.

Flicking on the hallway light, immediately she can tell it’s different. Splashes of colour she doesn’t remember seeing on the whitewashed walls. An antique-looking clock, letting her know it is 3 am. Artwork she’s never seen before hanging next to it, photos too, photos actually in frames. Years ago, there had been just one, her, Max and Victoria. Both of her children actual children in the picture, standing in front of some race track or other, and it had been frameless, stuck to the fridge with a magnet in the shape of a Red Bull can.

Now that one picture has multiplied, to make an entire collage frame, five photos in total sat inside it, the word ��family’ written underneath.

Putting the keys in the glass bowl beside the front door- another new addition- she steps closer. The urgent, anxious need to be back at the hospital has dimmed, and she realises she feels closer to Max here than in a white, soulless waiting room, carefully avoiding both eye contact and conversation with his father.

The first photo she notices has a girl, no a woman, smiling at the camera with two small children by her feet. A boy and a girl, her hand on each of their blonde heads. The woman has dark hair though, a wonderful smile and kind eyes. Older than Max, probably by ten years. Sophie has never seen her before, can’t recall ever being introduced to her, and she wonders if this is the reason she has been kept away from this apartment, a secret girlfriend.

But Sophie can’t see any other photos of her, just a picture of Max’s own family, her, Victoria, Luka, Lio. A few photos of podiums at Red Bull, from when Max was just eighteen, then again at twenty, if she can guess right. A photograph of a sunset, the two blonde heads of the children just at the bottom of the frame, so maybe-

There’s a noise, the sound of footsteps that have her reaching for the can of hairspray she carries in her purse just in case, and-

“Fucking hell,” a man says, hand flying to clutch his chest, “Sophie, you scared the shit out of me.”

It’s a voice, a face that she recognizes.

“Daniel?” Her face is hot, embarrassed at her own overreaction, as her hand drops from the zip of her bag. “What are you doing here?”

He doesn’t answer, eyes widening a little as though there is still something to be afraid of. Quickly, her eyes track over the rest of him, the sweatpants and Red Bull Racing t-shirt he is wearing, both looking a few sizes too big. She wonders how much weight he has lost since being with the team, for the clothes to hang off him the way they do.

“Is Max okay?” He asks, and his voice sounds- Hurt almost. Definitely worried.

“He is still in surgery,” she says, hoping her tone is reassuring. He seems to need it. “I took his keys too- Well the nurse said maybe he would like some things, for when he wakes up. To help him feel more at home.”

A part of her, embarrassed, had wanted to ask the nurse, ‘like what?’ It had occurred to her then that she has no idea what her 25-year-old son would want, what he would need to make him feel better. She hasn’t been somebody who has comforted him when he is hurt, or sick, or even just upset, for a long time. With her, he is always happy, and though she has always cherished his smile, his laugh, she wonders just how true it is that he always feels that way.

Daniel nods, running a hand through his curls but doesn’t say any more about Max. Instead, he turns, walking into the kitchen, gesturing for Sophie to follow him.

“Would you like a coffee or something? It’s pretty late, but-“ he shrugs then, tapping his fingers against a fancy, expensive-looking machine that again, Sophie has never seen before.

“Yes, that would- Daniel what are you doing here?” She feels rude, interrupting his politeness with a question he dodged the first time, but she’s beginning to worry she’s let herself into the wrong apartment, or something equally ridiculous. Vaguely she remembers Max telling her, when he was newly moved to Monaco, that the building was nice and he knew so because Daniel lived there.

Daniel Ricciardo, his teammate and then ex-teammate, who Sophie heard endless stories about for the first few years of her son’s time with Red Bull, and then suddenly, nothing at all. The next she’d heard about him was when he left the team, Max saying dutifully that he was happy for him, but not much else.

They’d stayed friends, she knows, or whatever variation of friends rivals, competitors, can truly be.

“I live here,” is what Daniel tells her now though, turning his back to her to fiddle with the machine, “do you take milk and sugar?”

Sophie doesn’t know if she manages to hide the shock that must have found its way onto her face in his admission, by the time he turns to face her again with a tired smile, teaspoon in hand. She does manage to shake her head though, to take the cup from his outstretched hand and take a sip of bitter, black coffee without it burning her tongue.

“I’m sorry,” she says, once he’s finished fixing his own cup, “I did not know that you had been staying with him.”

She waits for an explanation.

Keeping up with the grid gossip has never been her strong suit, but she's heard the rumours like everybody else that this might be Daniel’s last season. She expects to hear something that makes sense, like maybe Daniel has already sold his Monaco apartment, and Max is helping him out. That he’s broke, that he’s in between apartments, that he’s an alcoholic that needs someone to hold him accountable, anything.

Not for Daniel to shrug, giving her the same wary smile, and say, “why would you?”

She nods like that makes sense, like any of it makes sense. Like she isn’t getting irritated by his attitude, by this feeling that there is something he knows that she doesn’t.

Her baby boy is hurt, she doesn’t want this. She doesn’t need this, to feel confused in his home, when she could be by his bedside, stroking his hair. Hopefully asking him herself, why Daniel Ricciardo is living with him. If he’s awake, if he can even-

“Where is his bedroom?” She asks, setting the cup on the counter. “I cannot be too long.”

He mirrors her, putting his own mug down. “I can get some things for him, no problem,” he offers, but she shakes her head.

“You should get back to sleep,” she tells him with a polite smile, “it is very late.”

He purses his lips and looks at her as though considering something. Clearly, there is an internal conflict that again, Sophie is not privy to, but it’s over as quickly as it comes, with Daniel shrugging and saying, “okay. Let’s sort him out some stuff.”

She’s about to insist again that it’s fine, she doesn’t need his help, but he’s making his way down the hall to another room, presumably Max’s bedroom, before she has the chance.

Inside, again, it’s nothing like she remembers, and she has a moment to stand in the doorway, watching Daniel open and close drawers, to take it in.

The walls are painted a soft green, where before she is almost certain they were white. The furniture is a dark wood, instead of the white Ikea flat packs she helped him to pick out when he first moved here. Even the bed is different, bigger, the bed sheets patterned, but not distastefully so, complimenting the features of the room.

An adult’s bedroom.

It isn’t the décor isn’t the thing that gives her the biggest pause though.  

It’s the way the bedsheets are crumpled, as though somebody- Daniel- only just got out of them.

It’s the way there are two phone chargers plugged into the wall on either side of the bed. Two bedside tables littered with items. One with a couple of water glasses, a racing magazine, a watch Sophie recognises as one she brought for Max’s 21st birthday. The other is tidier, just a book and a photo frame resting on top.

The picture is the final thing that makes her understand. Daniel with his arm wrapped around Max’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to his cheek,

She looks from the photograph, then to Daniel, who is watching her carefully, something on his face quietly pleading for understanding.

“You should pick him some comfy clothes,” she suggests, swallowing down all the questions suddenly at the tip of her tongue, “for when he is discharged.”

That earns her a soft smile and a nod, and he starts rummaging through the wardrobe behind him, pulling out a jumper, a pair of worn tracksuit bottoms, a couple of plain white t-shirts. He walks to another set of drawers to get some boxer shorts and socks, moving around with comfortable familiarity, before dipping into the adjoining room, the bathroom Sophie gathers when he comes back holding a toothbrush and toothpaste.

“He doesn’t- The normal kind is always too minty for him,” Daniel explains, holding up the tube that Sophie recognises as a children’s brand, strawberry flavoured, before putting it on top of the small pile of belongings he’s made on the bed.

“Maybe a book?” Sophie suggests, wanting to feel helpful, but Daniel just snorts, not looking back from where he’s back in the wardrobe, reaching on his tiptoes for something off the top shelf.

“Good luck getting Maxy to read,” he says, “but maybe his headphones so he can watch a movie?”

“Sure,” she allows, “where are they?”

“Bedside drawer, but don’t- ah,”

She’s opened, seen, and slammed the drawer shut again in the time it takes for him to say it. Different, bright colours of silicone, and- When she looks back up at him, his face is pink the way hers feels, and his hand is cupping the back of his neck.

“Sorry,” he’s saying, struggling to meet her eye, “I tried to warn you.”

She pastes on the brightest smile she can muster. “It’s okay,” she laughs, but it’s forced, “I should know better than to go poking in my son’s bedroom drawers, maybe- Maybe you can find me a bag, instead, and I will just pack the things to take.”

Daniel nods, “right, yeah, let me just-“ and before long they have a system. Daniel places items, more clothes, a magazine, a phone charger, onto the bed, and Sophie packs them.

“Maybe this too,” he says after a while, holding up a tattered rag he’s retrieved from the bottom of Max’s wardrobe- their wardrobe- that it takes Sophie a moment to recognise.

“Oh,” she says, and the smile that spreads across her face this time is effortless. “I cannot believe he still has kept this.”

It’s her dress, the dress, the one she wore when she had him and gave him when he was a toddler, because Jos said he was not allowed cuddly toys or else he would turn out- Well, turn out exactly the way he has anyway, if the apartment he shares with another man is any indication.

“I used to wrap him up in this when he was a baby,” she explains, taking the dress from Daniel, rubbing the distantly familiar fabric between her fingers. “It was all he was allowed, as a boy, to cuddle. Jos tried to tell me no, but-“

But it was something she had stood her ground and paid the price over.

Daniel nods, “I know,” is all he says, “he loves it very much.”

The words lodge themselves thick in Sophie’s throat, as though she is the one to have spoken them. She remembers what it was like, to hold her new baby, her first baby, in her arms and to know that she would do whatever it took to make sure they were happy.

Even if that meant leaving them behind. It is just that standing in this apartment, in the middle of the life her son felt the need to keep secret from her, she is questioning what the right thing to do was more and more.

At the time, she had felt selfless, but now she just feels naïve.

They gather and pack the rest of Max’s things in silence. It is not until they are done, Sophie standing once more in the kitchen, this time a small duffel between her feet and Daniel’s that she speaks again.

“So how long have you- How long?”

If Daniel is surprised by the question, to his credit, he doesn’t show it.

“Six years,” is all he says, then tilting his head to the side as if to prove he is thinking, “seven in a few months.”

Sophie nods, as though the length of time is not a slap across the face. For seven year her son has loved somebody, and she has never known. Max would have been eighteen, barely. Daniel, what, 26? 27?

It should worry her, she knows, but she finds that strangely it doesn’t. Max is not a liar, it is not in his nature, so for him to have felt the need to hide this from her, it must have been something precious in his eyes. Something worth protecting.

“And I suppose you moved in here, let me think, four years ago?” She asks, and this time he does look shocked, and she relishes the only opportunity she’d had to make him feel this way, when he has caused that same emotion within her countless times since she came through their front door.

“That is around the time he stopped inviting me to stay with him here,” she offers as an explanation when he doesn’t say anything.

His face smoothes over into understanding.

“Ah,” he says, nodding with his lips pursed again, “I thought- Well, my mum, she said she always kinda knew that-“

“That you were with Max?” Sophie interrupts, because this is not something she has considered. Was she supposed to have seen this coming, all the times Max mentioned Daniel, unprompted, during the first season of his career?

“No,” Daniel says though, shaking his head, “I mean about me. My mum always thought I was, well, different was the word she used, but what she meant was ‘a little gay.’” He grins then, as though he expects that to make Sophie laugh, but it doesn’t. “I’m bi though,” he adds in a bit of a rush, as though that matters to her.

Bi. Gay. Which one is Max, she wants to ask, but is afraid she’ll fail some kind of test doing so.

“So your mother does not know? About you and Max?” She questions instead.

“No, she knows,” Daniel admits with a shrug, “my dad too.”

Jealousy spikes within her, and she feels her jaw tighten as she has to look away, to the sea just the other side of the balconies sliding glass door that would be visible if it wasn’t so dark.

“Who else knows?” she eventually demands, voice clipped to her shame.  

“Well, my sister,” Daniel begins, and with that, he gestures to the new photograph stuck to the fridge, the RedBull magnet replaced with one in the shape of a race track. The Yas Marina circuit, if Sophie had to guess.

It’s another photo of the same woman Sophie had thought might be Max’s girlfriend not twenty minutes ago.

“A couple of my best friends, who I trust,” Daniel is continuing, “one of Max’s, you know Martin, right? That’s it though.”

“So Victoria, she does not know?”

Daniel’s eyebrows knit together, and Sophie wonders if he is considering how much he can stretch the truth without it being an out-and-out lie. It stings, to consider that Victoria might know what Sophie did not. She has always, and maybe foolishly so, considered her and her children a trio, one that didn’t keep secrets from each other.

“No,” he says eventually, “I think Max always thought she wouldn’t be able to keep things from you. You two are close.”

They are. Sophie had just thought all three of them were.

“And Max wanted to keep it a secret?” She asks, because that is what she cannot wrap her head around. Her sweet boy, so eager to put his head in her lap to be close to her, hiding, being deceitful.

Eyes glancing towards the door behind her, as though wishing he could use it, could leave this conversation altogether, Daniel sighs. “I think Max is afraid. Of what you would think.” Then, frowning, head tilted to the side as he reconsiders, “of what Jos would think.”

The unhappy look on Daniel’s face at just the mention of her ex-husband’s name has Sophie thinking he knows, just like she does, exactly what Jos would think.

“Max should know better than to assume I would share anything with his father, much less an opinion on this.” She tells him firmly, harsh and unfair considering Daniel has done nothing but try to answer her questions and help her pick things to take to Max in the hospital.

“I think- Look this is something you should talk to Max about, yeah?” He allows, an apologetic smile on his face. “But if- Look if you really don’t care, tell him that. Go to him first. He’ll open up if you push him, trust me.”

She nods, as though this isn’t strange. As though it isn’t her who should be giving him advice on how to handle her son, and not the other way around. She is his mother, and yet, this man she hardly knows, knows Max so much better.

“Thank you,” she says, grateful anyway.

Daniel just hums in acknowledgement, eyes fixed on where he is picking at one thumbnail using the other. There are a few beats of silence, and then he is speaking again.

“Is Jos still at the hospital?”

It’s then that Sophie considers how terrible this must be for him. To be stuck here, in the home he shares with her son, when he should be there, by his side.

“Yes,” she tells him, and now it’s her turn for the apologetic smile, “but not for much longer. We- Obviously we are not supposed to be in the same room together, and I know he was planning to fly home soon.”

Daniel doesn’t say anything, doesn’t look at her. Keeps picking at his thumbnail.

“Would you like to come?” She asks.

He snorts then. “Of course I do, but-“ He shrugs, doesn’t need to say what is the unspoken truth they both know.

It is important that Jos does not know.

It is important to Max that it stays that way.

[ruporas]

was there ever a part 2 of bound to want? (If not please don’t take this as a rush I’m just lost in the sauce with tumblrs search bar flfjfkfk)

AH.... YES....... FALLS TO MY KNEES.... it's Unfortunately still a work in progress because i keep on redrawing panels over and over Again when i should just be finishing it!!! it's been a process, but i'm hoping to get it done ideally before may... thank you for your interest still AND I'M SORRY FOR HAVING TO ANSWER THAT ITS STILL A WIP 😭

here's a little progress from a page i've been working on recently!

[kettleghost]

Hi there! Just stumbled upon your Saul Goodman artwork! I love that rascal, he gives off Daria vibes in ur style!

thank you so much!! this really means a lot! im assuming you’re referring to my slippin’ jimmy redesign(??) since i actually based that design off of the artsyle of early mtv cartoons like daria and clone high and shows like that! so it’s super great to know that it translated well into my drawing n stuff. so so glad u enjoy my art! thank u for letting me know :D here are some doodles of the silly guy

[crowkip]

you’re actually so real for drawing damian like that, like not only is your style fucking insane but you draw damian so beautiful and i dee like everyone just forgets that damian is TALIAs and BRUCEs son. like those genes could NOT make ugly or anything less than drop dead gorgeous and i’m tired of no one talking about it

THANK YOU I APPRECIATE THIS SM!!! its really important to me to try to incorporate damians physical/ethnic features from both sides of his family into my drawings of him since dc tends to sorta just make him look like a mini bruce despite him being also an al ghul lmao, im super happy to hear you could see both his parents in my take on him!!

[boxwinebaddie]

I’m so dang proud of you, dude. That is all I had to say.

thank you, my friend. ;-; <3

that really, really means a lot to me...because idk, i really do think i work hard and try my best? legitimately? and i also used to always put my writing before my mental health, but i'm finding that when i do that, the quality of my work actually suffers a lot more than it succeeds and i, as a real life person, suffer for the sake of my work.

plus, this is feels a huge period of healing/transformation for me, i feel like i'm finally being kind to myself and words cannot express how much i appreciate all the support and love i have received throughout this tumultuous and crazy process from all of you.

you are my angels.

so thank you again <3 i've been seriously disheartened and reeling from how aggressive and weird that anon was with my agency. getting these votes of confidence helps validate my decision.

-uncle nina, seriously humbled by all of your kind heart(s)

[the-most-pathetic-edge-marquis]

hey all! if you're seeing this post--i've hopped off of tumblr & out of fandom for a bit. this community has meant a lot for me & been a source of a lot of joy, but recently in combination with some personal events, this is starting to feel less like a positive & more like a source of stress, and i think i need to disengage. thank you for all the memes, fic, and genuine top-tier analysis. it's been an honor

[chwejongho-archive]

⟣ MAKNAE LINE ⟡ FEVER STAGES ⟢

❄️your winter gift has arrived, @song-mingi!

a series of gifts for mutuals through december!

[red-dye40]

YOUR JTHM FIC HAD ME GOING DOAJW0WKAUWOOAH8PWMWKWBD0WIWKWKWL THE WHOLE TIME ITS LITERALLY THE BEST FIC IVE EVER READ

HAHAHAHHAHAA HELL YEAH BUDDY thank u :)

[iinryer]

BOOOOOP!!!!

🫵!

[killuaisaprincess]

I AM ONE OF GONKIS STRONGEST SOLDIERS

I WILL ALWAYS WRITE GONKILLU AHHHHHHH

[wallcrawld]

REPOST & LIST 6 SONGS THAT INSPIRE YOU TO WRITE YOUR MUSE.

ㅤㅤKEEP THE RAIN by searows ----- i don't know what steps to take / i do the easy ones until it helps / little acts of conversation / i don't think i really like myself / am i comfortable in silence? / or is it eating me alive? / nothing's ever really quiet / when you need distraction to survive

ㅤㅤFUNERAL by phoebe bridgers ----- i'm singin' at a funeral tomorrow / for a kid a year older than me / and I've been talkin' to his dad / it makes me so sad when i think too much about it, i can't breathe / jesus christ, i'm so blue all the time / and that's just how i feel / i have a friend i call when I've bored myself to tears / and we talk until we think we might just kill ourselves / but then we laugh until it disappears

ㅤㅤMARS by sleeping at last ----- we laid our names to rest / along the dotted line / we left our date of birth and our history behind / we were full of life we could barely hold it in / we were amateurs at war, strangers to suffering / we made our families proud but scared at the same time / we promised we'd be safe / another lie from the front lines / our nights have grown so long / now we beg for sound advice / let the brokenness be felt 'til you reach the other side / there is goodness in the heart of every broken man who comes right up to the edge of losing everything he has / now we're young enough to try to build a better life

ㅤㅤPLEASE, PLEASE, LET ME GET WHAT I WANT by the smiths ---good times for a change / see, the luck i've had can make a good man turn bad / so please, please, please / let me, let me, let me / let me get what i want / this time / haven't had a dream in a long time / see, the life i've had / can make a good man bad / so for once in my life / let me get what i want / lord knows, it would be the first time

ㅤㅤBE NICE TO ME by the front bottoms ----- i got boulders on my shoulders / collar bones begin to crack / there is very little left of me and it's never coming back / there are certain things you ask of me / and there are certain things I'll lack / what's it matter anymore ? / if you believe the lies i tell / there's no meaning to the words / but we still sing these songs well / we are running out of time / we are running, we are running / but you're a killer and i'm your best friend / think it's unfair, your situation / i try to write you poems, but the words they don't make sense / the hand tries to grip the pencil, but the fingers are too tense

ㅤㅤFOREST FIRE by brighton ----- when you were young you used to dream about fires / and scream into the night / to find me standing barefoot at your side / i used to whisper it will be alright / and how was i to know i'm not strong / i should have saved you and i hope you know that you're my home / but now i'm lost / now i'm the one left screaming through the night / i'm gonna carry your bones / i'm gonna carry them all / i'm gonna carry you home / i'm gonna bury these bones / i'm gonna write it in stone / that you were my home

BONUS SONG : BLITZKRIEG BOP — THE RAMONES

& 6 QUOTES THAT INSPIRE YOU TO WRITE YOUR MUSE.

⊹ ❝ i offer to you my bones and my veins. that parts that break and spill ❞ — mary kate teske ⊹ ❝ we leave doors open for people who'll never knock again. stubborn human heart. living, for the maybes and what ifs. hoping, until the day it dies ❞ — mollie adler ⊹ ❝ the worst thing in the world can happen, but the next day the sun will come up. you will eat your toast. and you will drink your tea. ❞ — rhian ellis ⊹ ❝ you remember too much, my mother said to me recently. why hold onto all that ? and i said, where do i put down ? ❞ — anne carson ⊹ ❝ the tragic hero is complete. you can call him unhappy (miserable, utterly broken) even before he is dead. for an instant he is something like divine. and then he dies, because there's nothing left to do. ❞ — michael kinnucan ⊹ ❝ and when i turned to face grief, i saw that it was just love in a heavy coat. ❞ — shannon barry

BONUS QUOTES : ❝ we're not just our failures. as much as they hurt, we learn from them. then we go out there and do our best to make up for them — even though we never will. we save people. we save as many as we can to make up for the ones we couldn't. that's all we do. ❞ — the boy himself ):

and of course,

❝ with great power, comes great responsibility. ❞

tagged by: @spidersiren THANK YOU BELOVED tagging: @gardiennes, @spinxeret, @arachnidiots, @proditeur, @kryptonfuture, @timewound, @magitanna, @gobleir, @loetise, @eideticspider, and you !!

[quietsouvenir]

After a trial with the last post I uploaded I noticed that I got WAY less traction on my linked post than I expected (🤡) so I might just reupload works as a regular image but with more Glaze and see how that goes. My laptop can't handle Glaze so I'm reserving its use for anything I post on Tumblr and Twitter which still means less uploads overall u_u

This is still a portfolio/commission page and part of my livelihood, so admittedly I do need reach and visibility to keep myself afloat even if it means getting scraped by AI. I still don't trust Tumblr to properly uphold their opt-out option but I've ticked that off at least.

Hope y'all aren't too bothered by the reupload and me rambling on, thanks for understanding 🙇‍♂️