#(had fun with this)

[tofuless]

Fun lil doodle of a boy

Y'all can pry lloyd with two toned hair from my cold dead hands

[y0urnewhyperfixation]

Would it be too much to ask for butch yang 👉👈 maybe even bees schnees

order upp

[monkiinart]

expirimented a bit with this one!

[glassofoj-twitter]

My girls 🩷💚🩵

[pommegrantaire]

take me away

[j0cto]

revenge

[porchtart]

my piece for the jilco server gift exchange this year :^)

[zsofieia]

i'll hold you when things go wrong. i'll be with you from dusk till dawn.

guys i finally found a Loophole for not being able to draw intense and expressive emotions

lookit this is just a blank expression but it’s still….. heavy……. right???¿??¿ he is KINDA intimidating….. RIGHT!!!???!?

i’ve always wanted to draw smth angsty….. halfway thru this drawing i had a thought that this could be what happened after this. error hops around the multiverse looking for ink and then when he finds him…… well……. he also finds somebody else possibly more threatening than he is

who could that be?

[bubblecrumbled]

can you please sketch manor cyn if you’re cool with that

I'm A-okay with it! :)

What you ask you shall receive!

Totally not a moment to show my new logo lmao.

Have asks? Don't be shy and ask!

[11syrups]

⭐️If I were a constellation⭐️

Here’s a prompt I did for @/joseiforaction requested by @/covenantofrock on Twitter :)

The donation period is over but make sure y’all go and support the artists who took part in it!

[mycapofmisfortune]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Call of Duty (Video Games) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: John Price & Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish/Simon "Ghost" Riley Characters: John Price (Call of Duty), Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Mentioned Kate Laswell - Character Additional Tags: Late Night Conversations, Implied Sexual Content, Simon "Ghost" Riley is Bad At Feelings, Simon "Ghost" Riley Loves John "Soap" MacTavish, Forehead Kisses, Literal Sleeping Together, John Price Acting as Task Force 141's Parental Figure (Call of Duty) Summary:

“Simon’s dead.”

Price leaned back on his chair, shoulders deflating some. He nodded, seeing and understanding Ghost’s point of view. But. “And yet there he is,” Price said, voice gentle, leaning slightly forward to keep their eyes meeting, “bleeding in front of me.”

 Late night conversations were a usual occurrence within the 141, but this was something different. Not bad, though, never bad, especially when it had to to with Ghost.

[b-a-l-a-n-c-3]

Boys kissing is my therapy

[camels-pen]

cycle

Usopp loved his mother.

She worked tirelessly to feed and bathe him. Then play and teach him. Then talk him through the chores when she was too weak to do them herself.

She worked with a whole bunch of papers and spilled ink; he hadn't known it at the time, but she was a novelist and a very good one at that. Her stories kept the roof over their heads, brought them thick coats for winter, and gifted an assortment of toys and paints for Usopp's enjoyment. Sure, he couldn't always get exactly what he wanted, but what kid did?

She raised him to be a good man- a happy man. Put her all into making sure his needs were met and that he'd try to see all the good in the world around him. Appreciate the things he had and not get wrapped up in the small things that go wrong. Like his father did, she'd say fondly.

Usopp loved his mother. He whispered it to himself aloud.

He loved his mother, but she wasn't perfect.

If he weren't totally alone, laying awake in his hammock, he wouldn't even think it. Because she did so much for him. Gave up so much for him. To have him. To stay with him.

And yet-

And yet he thought about it sometimes. The little imperfect moments- ones he'd give anything to experience again. The way some days she'd get all uppity about his patched clothes. The way she'd dismiss him when he mentioned something he learned from the owner of the grocery store. Say you can just pick off the green bits and the bread would be just fine.

The way some days she'd just watch him eat dinner. Explain she'd already eaten with a smile. But her plate was never in the sink.

Whenever they were walking around town together, everyone said their greetings- their hellos and goodbyes- and they were civil. Kind, even. They had no problem arguing, driving hard bargains and making snide remarks about his father, but these were good people. People Usopp was supposed to call if there was ever some kind of emergency, because they would help.

They would always help.

If only someone would ask.

It made him angry. So unbelievably unfathomably angry. So angry he wanted to break every dish in the kitchen, bite through the mast, climb to the top of the crow's nest and scream.

Because even Usopp, a child still small enough to be carried at the hip- though that may have been his mother's stubbornness rather than an indicator of age- could see that his mother desperately needed help.

And he should be mad at the townsfolk. The way they looked the other way, waiting and waiting for... something. A tangible something they could point at and say they needed to intervene. They didn't need to wait so long. They said so themselves not a week after the funeral.

He should be mad at them.

But he can only find anger for her.

Because even when she fell visibly ill- even when the town's only doctor was making monthly, then weekly, then daily trips- she never told anyone. Kept it all to herself. Tried to downplay it to Usopp too, but Usopp wasn't stupid and he'd overheard her talking to the doctor plenty of times. He knew she wasn't well.

And maybe that was the real problem.

He had no right to be angry with his mother. She was doing what she thought was best. It wasn't her fault the stress of her daily life had exacerbated her illness to the point she was bedridden. It wasn't her fault she had to work and raise Usopp entirely on her own. Wasn't the fault of the townsfolk either, considering the brave front his mother always put on.

No, at the end of the day, there was only one person to blame.

Usopp.

He knew how little she was eating. Heard her stifled sobs through his bedroom wall. Saw the way she hunched and stumbled when it was just them.

Most of all, he witnessed firsthand how each day she would get a little bit slower, a little bit weaker, a little bit quieter, until one day she just... stopped.

He knew. Maybe not in the right words or with the right meanings, but he knew there was something wrong. And all he had to do was talk to someone- anyone. Any of the numerous people around town who he was supposed to run and call for any kind of trouble he was in. For any kind of trouble they were in.

It was all he had to do.

But he promised. A vow that would last longer than her. That he couldn't tell the townsfolk how sick she'd gotten. How sick she let herself seem to him. How sick she actually was.

Usopp wasn't one to break his promises. Not to his ailing mother.

So he devised something else. Something to at least get her back on her feet again. Happy like she used to be. Happy like she taught him to be.

He'd run around town yelling about pirates! Pirates! Pirates seen off the north shore!

The whole town was beside itself, shuttering their windows and barring up doors. He had everyone running scared and was finding his own enjoyment in his 'noble' deed. The only one who didn't believe him, was his mother.

He kept trying. Day after day of pirates, pirates, pirates. His father, returning triumphant from his journey and ready to bring his ship doctor to cure her. His father, rushing into the house like a storm, a fish on his back that can make anyone the healthiest they can be. His father, whisking her to Meshi for good food and a joke so funny she laughs the sickness away.

His father, home again.

She didn't believe him.

She was proud she'd married his father. Happy she'd told him to go, those scarce few years ago. But without fail, the only lie she had never believed, was Usopp's father returning home to see them. To see her.

He wasn't here; his journey wasn't done; don't say something stupid. Each time, he was met with a different response, all saying the same thing.

His father wasn't coming.

Usopp's misplaced anger would flare, briefly pointed at a new target, before dying down again. He couldn't even figure out how to send a letter informing his father of the news. Even with heavy coaxing, the townsfolk admitted they didn't know either; his father never told Usopp the name of his ship or his crew and his mother had never written it down anywhere. Up until meeting Luffy, he had no clue.

And by the time he did know, he was nursing lumps on his head while listening to a lecture about not wasting Nami's paper. The overflowing trash bin was practically laughing at his pitiful, crumpled up attempts.

Soon enough he was swept up in dangerous adventures left and right and he let himself forget about it. Or rather, did forget about it. Consciously, unconsciously, it didn't matter. He forgot. And he only remembered late at night when he had trouble sleeping, wondering where his father might be, if he was boasting about his wife and kid back home, not knowing half of his little family had left him.

Usopp loved his mother. But why didn't she just ask for-

He startled at the sudden, loud laughter from above. Then the thud of Luffy jumping down, followed by Zoro's boots tapping down the ladder rungs.

They were talking about something- a fish Luffy caught or a Sea King Zoro had cut down. Usopp couldn't tell the way his heartbeat was in his ears and the way he was trying to keep perfectly, utterly still.

He should've talked to them. Said something like a goodnight, maybe. Even grumbling about how loud they were being would be fine.

But he was gripped with a nameless fear. Something that twined its cold, skeletal fingers around his throat, whispering notions of being caught for an irredeemable crime. Twisting his stomach in knots at even the thought of making a sound.

A woosh of air and Luffy had climbed into the hammock above him. A deep snore and Zoro was out too.

Usopp sighed, letting himself untense as the spectre of death started to retreat. He stared at Luffy's vest- at his back, resting in the netting. Barely an arms length away.

He just had to reach for it.

It was all he had to do.

Usopp bit his lip, pressed a hand to his mouth and turned on his side, ignoring the tears staining his skin.

[atomgecko]

.☀️🐉🍁.

[dreamgirlnightmare]

Trying to learn pc98 pixel art using Higurashi as practice.

References bellow the cut.

[rabbit-heart4]

80 pounds sopping wet