#Look at that GRIP
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Whoever said that Kou was Hanako's comfort exorcist, you are so right and I love you
#Sure it's more of a human shield situation but I WILL TAKE WHAT I CAN GET 🎉#Look at that GRIP#'chill bruh he all yours' type beat#jibaku shounen hanako kun#toilet bound hanako kun#tbhk#jshk#kou minamoto#hanako kun#hanakou#kouhana#hanako x kou#kou x hanako
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So when does the yaoi start on this book or did I get baited
#snowpost#me#look at that grip#selfpic#i’m a christian woman#no the fuck I am not#yeah I have a plushie bible#i think it looks funny in my very occultic home#yaoi#guys i think i got baited#although there was this judas dude kissing this jesus dude I hear
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max max max hey:))))) 🤭🤭🤭 would u rather have to be left handed forever OR have to touch something sticky every day
oh you son of a BITCH (affectionate) youre so fucked for this
i guess,,, damn i guess i'd hafta touch something sticky. every single day. for the rest a my life. thats how bad i dont wanna be left handed. it is nothing personal its jus that ive seen the way you ppl hold pens n i jus dont wanna end up like That.
case in point:
#LOOK AT THAT GRIP#what is he DOING DAWG#also yes unironically the first thing i think of when i think of left handers is mobamba holding a pen#like seriously its not for the bit#my condolences abi <3#guess i gotta get sticky :((#ty for the ask <3
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It's just guys night talk! Don't worry about it!
(Read Tiger Tiger and shake this man awake so he can finish that thought!)
#tiger tiger#remy bonnaire#jamis arlesi#Comics I meant to post a week ago but I have been...extraordinarily sleepy.#Remy is the ultimate yearner and he is about to explode...these last few updates have had the Tigers discord in a vice grip.#We all knew he was going to say something that would devestate Remy.#But this??? This near confession? “I wish you would look at me like that?”#If I was Remy...well yeah I probably would also just lay in bed. Awake. Pondering and internally exploding.#But ough...the agony...his heart had settled on loving this man from afar and now...now he wonders. If it doesn't have to be so.#The boys are fighting (internally and with themselves).#If you haven't red Tigers yet but are reading this: What else must I do to convince you? Draw more men's tits?#God! If I must [I shake my head at an empty audience] I can't believe I'm being forced to do this!
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the twins
#my art tag?#fear and hunger#enki ankarian#enkis unnamed twin sister#the grip this man has on my balls is immeasurable#cw blood#cw crucifixion#cw knives#also i love the concept of enkis twin just looking like a less fucked up version of hi#like shes just enki if he slept 5 hours a day instead of 2
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More of Stanley's sketchbook because he makes me sick /pos
(Just imagine he was looking in a mirror at the subway to draw this anshfhwj. The london bus ticket is unrelated, it's just a random knick knack he had lying around<3)
People weren't the only ones Stan met on the streets.
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+ this is an absolute fucking batshit WILD oneshot I initially wrote for these drawings that got WAY out of hand, if you feel like reading that.
The oneshot below is a stand-alone now, and in no way is related to the drawings above, but I just wanted to show you guys because Jesus Christ
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Winter of 1981, at a subway station Stan doesn't remember the name of-
The sorry excuse of a transport system that this hellhole of a city called a functioning subway was hardly anyone's first choice of a warm place to stay the night. And yet, here Stanley was; standing like an idiot in the middle of a small bustling stairwell that led down to the full screeching chaos of a train stop on a Tuesday evening. A rowdy crowd of exhausted office workers streamed out like a tidal wave from the entrance of the station, the bustle of their footsteps all too eager to go home and relax after a long day of work.
The faint, stuffy stench of old piss and sweat followed the crowd to the surface from the deep depths of a less than sanitary and overcrowded train station. The pungent smell intermingled with the crisp stinging winter air in a cocktail of shitty city gloom often associated with this time of the year; when the holidays were too far away and the sun seemed to come and go with practically the same 9 to 5 schedule as the workers had, leaving them going to work in the pitch dark and coming back out in the inky black as well.
He might have looked like he belonged there, depending on how one would want to look at it. He stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the sea of prim, pressed suits and neart uniforms. His ratty old jacket and generally unwashed appearance certainly didn’t help his case, but he also knew that stations like these also tended to shelter quite a number of homeless wanderers like him, especially during the winter. So, it wasn't exactly uncommon to see other sore thumbs seeking reprieve from the biting cold and the dangerous likelihood of frostbite from within the enclosed walls of the subway station.
Heck, if most of these underground kingdoms didn't also happen to be a breeding ground for several illicit activities, he might even have followed their lead. But, believe it or not, Stanley's already had enough experience with illegal activities to last him a last time, and he isn't looking for a new fill. He was satisfied with what meager shelter his trusty car offered him, as little a difference it might make in terms of safety.
Stanley's obstruction of the already narrow stairs with his loitering went unappreciated, as shoulders roughly shoved past him and swinging briefcases repeatedly bumped into his sides, usually coupled with a nasty glare and a snide comment or two. He paid them no mind, however. He wasn't here to start a fight with some random bum with a dead end job, as much as he thought it would probably do them both some good to duke their stresses out on one another.
The hours ticked by with wave after wave of new crowds being dropped off by a train and left to pour out of the station into the streets. By the time the streetlights turned on and the pale pink in the sky slowly faded to make way for the stark glittery black of the night sky, the tide of people had slowed to a trickle and rush hour was long since over. He was now the stairs’ sole occupier, with a few occasional stragglers stumbling up the steps and hurrying past him without a second glance.
Stanley did not move from his spot, however. He stood resolutely in the middle of the stairway, fervently rubbing his arms and stamping his feet in a futile attempt to try and regain feeling in his extremities as he waited. Rocking on his heels, he titled his head backwards to let his eyes roam the constellations that carpeted the endless expanse of the sky stretched out above his head, almost losing himself in the scintillating canvas of stars.
It reminded him of old times; of the sparkling beach sand twinkling in the dim moonlight, and the soft sound of lilting waves hovering in the background as he lay back on the cold wooden deck of his ship and watched the stars dance.
He still remembered every name his brother had once recited to him time and time again as he pointed out each star and galaxy from the night sky.
Then, like clockwork, he was broken out of his reveries by a telltale meow coming from below. The sound was a familiar blanket that immediately melted away the tension that had begun to build in his chest as he practically sagged with relief.
His body moved almost automatically as he leaned down to detach the frail tabby cat that was attempting to literally fuse with his legs, purring up a storm and rubbing her head against his pants as though her life depended on it. The cat gave a soft chirrup of dissatisfaction at being manhandled, which Stanley absentmindedly replied with a chiding click of his tongue as he lifted her up his chest and gently tucked her into his jacket in a practiced motion.
She thankfully remained blissfully limp in his grasp as he shifted around some more so that she was nestled comfortably inside the dark pocket of warmth inside his ratty jacket. The tiny warm lump that rumbled contently against his front radiated with heat, and his fingers finally began to feel like actual fingers rather than useless stiff frigid lumps of meat and bone attached to his palms.
A pointed cough startled him from his clumsy wriggling to get the cat to settle down. An oddly familiar security guard stood at the entrance of the station at the bottom of the stairs, leveling Stanley an unimpressed look with the metal gate in his grip already halfway closed, ready to seal the subway for the night. He must have been a comical sight; caught awkwardly bent over while trying to get his newly acquired cat to stop kneading biscuits on his stomach, with said cat peeking out from the gap between his collars.
Stanley faintly recognized the guard. He was a much older man, with a shock of thinning white hair neatly tucked underneath a dark blue cap and a strange depth in his eyes that reminded Stanley of the sea; with countless unspoken truths lurking far beneath the surface, but no less grand and knowing of all that the universe had to offer, as though he had already lived a thousand lives before this one.
He had seen the man around before, at another station, doing the opposite of his job by ushering stray buskers and homeless stragglers from the streets and into the (relatively) safe walls of the subway, instead of doing what any other law-abiding security guard would do and kick them out into the elements. He wasn't sure what the older man was doing here, of all places, since all the previous stations he'd seen the man at had been several states over, practically on the other side of the country.
A brief spark of panic shot through his spine at the thought that this man could be following him, but he quickly discarded the ridiculous notion as soon as it entered his mind. He had never even seen him before, and hardly ever even interacted with him; there was no reason for there to be any sort of bad blood between them. Unless he happened to be related to one of Stanley's many, many enemies, then perhaps his fear was a little warranted.
However, the old guard made no move to attack or do anything other than stare judgmentally, almost expectantly. For the first time in a long time, Stanley felt like a child being caught doing something he wasn't supposed to do. He tried his best to keep his uncomfortable squirming to a minimum under the unrelenting gaze, stubbornly returning the man's gaze with his own wary glare. His cat’s muffled whining came from inside his jacket. The traitor, she was leaving him to deal with the old man on his own.
With an exasperated jerk of his head, the security guard gestured towards the inside of the station. For a moment, Stanley stared dumbly, uncomprehending of what the old man could possibly want from him. Rolling his eyes, this time the man gestured more insistently at the small gap that still remained between the metal gate and the entrance, his arm sweeping the air in a low arc as he dramatically urged Stanley inside. Suddenly, it clicked, and Stanley shook his head.
“I have a car,” he said plainly, his voice echoing loudly in the desolate silence of the winter night that surrounded the unlikely pair.
He wasn't sure why he was so nervous, it wasn't as though he was lying. He did have a car, his trusty Stanley-mobile was parked safely away in the corner of an unassuming alley that wasn't often frequented by anyone. There was no way he was reaching it tonight, though; it was practically on the other side of the city, much too far away for him to arrive at a reasonable time. His nightly excursions to meet his small friend unfortunately left him with no other choice than to leave his car behind, the hunk of metal far too unwieldy and noticeable to drive around openly on the streets. He never knew who could be watching, after all.
He had simply been hoping to find himself a dark corner to tuck himself into with his cat, just for the night, but it seemed as though the universe had other plans. Or rather, this strange old man had other plans.
Although, if Stanley thought about it, the subway wasn't such a bad suggestion. This was one of the safer stations in the city; and with the rich neighborhoods being so close by, no rogue criminal or dealers dared to come near this area unless they wanted to be slapped with a hefty fine or face a higher potential to be arrested. And of course, there was the obvious shelter from the unrelenting cold that now seemed to permeate his bones, even with the purring warmth that was nestled inside his jacket.
So, that was how he found himself hunkering down for the night inside a shabby old subway station, with a satisfied cat still rumbling away against his chest and a strange old security guard locking down the gates behind him. The man said nothing as he hooked his keys back onto his belt and gave a firm pat on Stanley's shoulders as he walked past him, pausing to scratch his cat behind her ears before moving away. His footsteps bounced off of the grimy tiled walls with an odd reverb as he turned a corner.
“You'll be safe in here,” the man said, voice sage and gravelly. The words had a weight to them, and seemed to hang in the air with such a presence it was as though the old man had never even left his side.
The subway was empty, quiet. It was such a stark contrast to the loud rowdiness of the rush hour crowd these halls once held. Stanley hadn't yet registered the utter silence of the station as he aimlessly made his way down the winding, deserted halls of the ancient station. He mindlessly walked past the aged and peeling advertising posters plastered on the walls, his nose becoming accustomed to the stinging stench of the subway. The quiet seemed to swallow the sound of his steps as he explored the branching paths and endless tunnels. They were almost kaleidoscopic, dizzying, nonsensical. There were doors where there shouldn't be, and deadends where it didn't make sense.
The silence only began to truly settle in his bones the more he walked. He suddenly wished that he would head the telltale footsteps of the old security guard again, just to hear another sign of life in this underground hellscape other than himself. The ghostly memories of screeching trains and bustling crowds haunted the halls; now, only nothingness reigned supreme. He glanced down at his small feline companion, who slumbered away against his chest, blissfully unaware of his jackrabbiting heartbeat threatening to burst out of his ribs. The silence seemed to permeate every inch of space and crush the air out of his lungs. He couldn't breathe.
Stanley’s steps grew faster, more frantic as the walls and ceilings seemed to close in on him. They grew smaller, tighter; squeezing, trapping. He hardly even registered his cat's complaints as she was jostled around in his grasp, breaking into a full out run. His breathing sounded loud, too loud, and the world was collapsing around him.
When he finally broke out into a large, open platform, he could finally breathe again. He had arrived at the tracks, the empty tunnel where the trains would pass an empty, gaping maw in the wall that seemed to swallow all light around it and beckon him closer. He felt his cat wriggle out from within his jacket and hop out with a displeasured yowl, scampering away and disappearing behind a corner much like the old man had. True silence pierced his ears and thrummed like a deafening pressure in his temples. He was alone.
Stanley was stuck in that subway station for years.
#i only have the Paris and Korean subways as frame reference so i have no idea what american subways look like#just imagine the paris subway system- i heavily used it as a reference to draw and write these since it's#the only subway that I know AND looks 1980-ish enough to pass#gravity falls#gravity falls fanart#gravity falls fanfiction#gravity falls au#<-ig???#there are mirrors in subways right- I've seen a lot of curved wall length mirrors at subway stations#stanley pines#stan pines#grunkle stan#stanley's sketchbook#tw liminal space#tw horror#<- I mean eh- my horror writing skills is sub par at best#cats#tw scopophobia#tw staring#on the other hand- stanley being friends with street cats!! so cute <33#you can visibly SEE in the fic where I completely lost my grip on the story from 'sweet story about cats' to 'oh my god what the fuck'#my art
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Some doodles from different scenes of @ssreeder 's fanfic LIAB! I literally drop everything when you upload QuQ <3 thank you for putting so much effort into this fic, it really shows! I love it!
Really wanted to capture the two most heartbreaking moments of the last few chapters - two very, very different reunions with very different underlying emotions.
And the last one is a doodle after reading the most recent chapter - Zuko wearing his hair in a messy ponytail, dressed in expensive clothing - moments before disaster :))
#atla#prince zuko#liab#into the fire#fanfic fanart#tw: injury#zukka#leaving it all behind#i completely lost my grip on how his hair looks after Sokka got his grubby hands on him!#but canonically it grows like 2cm a day so...
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despite, despite, despite!!
#mine#original#fun fact when i first started colouring this i like couldnt remember what th trans flag looked like#i just like. did it then was like . hmm. that is the flag of slovakia i think#anyway#i missed tdov by a mile but. hello#i missed th day bc i was at my bfs house. thats t4t love baby#i hope u hve all had a good easter!!#thank u to everyone who inquired abt commissions i am surprised abt th amount of interest!!#when this batch is done i will open more. will probably b a regular thing :3#i will now do exercise and have a bath i thinky#i need to make myself read this book...im so not use to horror anytime i read anything remotely unsettling im like oohoohohohmmhhmm n#dont read for like. 4 days#ive read like 200 pages in 10 days KSFBSBJ get a GRIP#anyway. good evening
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🖤💛
#I am losing my mind#Carlos is holding him so gently but with a firm grip on his waist and in his hair#and the look of utter love and affection on his face#I’m going insane#this hug is everything#charles leclerc#carlos sainz#carlos sainz jr#f1#formula 1#mypost#monza gp 2024#1655#charlos
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macking cheese from the michael wave……. i don’t know why fnaf has me in a chokehold yet again but im having fun w it. i also think we should let michael afton listen to a little bit of metal as a treat. just a little bit
#i imagine teenage michael as like the typical gross annoying sweaty obnoxious early 80s metalhead i think it fits#does anyone else get it…….. gripping sink staring into mirror etc#mutuals don’t look at me i do Not know where the fnafposting is coming from#fnaf#five nights at freddys#fnaf fanart#fnaf 4#michael afton
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just some stan appreciation for theseus' guide chap 1 <- (my cool fanfic where i beat him up yay)
#gravity falls#stanley pines#bill cipher#gf theseus' guide#billstan#both pines brothers look good being gripped like a tiny baby bird in a giant hand if you ask me#anyways enjoy scenarios#stump art
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the terror (2018) requires a rewatch not only bc it is so good it will settle in the core of your brain and grow and spread there like a fungus until you die but also bc it is a show about a hundred something bearded victorian white men on a ship in the same clothes and by the time you start figuring out what name is attached to which guy half of them are already dead
#imma keep it real with y'all final episode when ned is like 'we gotta save the captain'#and dundy is like 'no we gotta move on'#i deadass was sitting there like 'whos this guy' bc id never connected the name le vesconte to his face#also when he was getting his toes snipped off i thought he was just some guy. complete blind spot in my brain for him#which is wild bc i would honestly start sucking face if he looked at me for 2 secs. dilf <3#there's simply too much going on every ep to keep a grip on what muttonchops belong to who the first time around fr#the terror
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ok i think we can all agree that she was having THE TIME OF HER LIFE in this position
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i feel sick hey haveyou guysheard of this game where everyone is a terrible person and theyre all stuck on an island forever together
#ifeel sick i love egor alot#ouu my theoriessss wenjie my research#my theoriess#im close to a breakthrough! 🤓☝️#drawing#digital art#art#illustration#my art#deathloop#egor serling#julianna blake#aleksis dorsey#finished the game twice one deciding to stay inthe loop and then resetting and then breakingthe loop for good#ouu#this game couldhave been better but its good but also like#grips myhead#looks around is anyone here
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pre-and-post ski
#a grip was not got#some overdue 94 sketches#the one on the right looks weird to me for some reason but w/e we ball#spy x family#my art#loid forger#sxf#sxf loid#anya forger#twilight
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all comic fans know how to do is: develop superiority complexes based on their personal perceptions of a character, eat hot chip, and lie
#we are all posting on a half-dead hellsite about a handful of fictional superheroes#who are all written by various creators with different interpretations and biases#and who are all employed by a soulless corporation who values the quantity of comics they sell over the quality of stories they tell#nobody here is winning#so stop feeding your ego by looking down on how other people find comfort in characters#so long as their fan content does not cause tangible harm#get a grip#discourse and media criticism is one thing#unnecessary negativity is something entirely apart#batman#batfam#jason todd#dick grayson#cassandra cain#talia al ghul#bruce wayne#red hood#nightwing#red robin#tim drake#spoiler#stephanie brown#black bat#duke thomas#the signal#dc comics#dc fans
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