#WHAT ARE THEIR MAIN TAGS IM GOING INSANE

[maiyuyuns]

patpatpat… THREE SILLIES PAT YOU WHAT WILL YOU DO?!?! COLORED VERSION NEVER!!!! (maybe one day after i finish all my drafted works…)

[queerdraws]

projecting on luffy again. get bited.

[taruruchi]

Did I cook or did I cook /j (twas a simple drawing) (I spent an hour and a half doing it somehow)

Do you guys see the vision <- insane

Tag list: @angelwishess @scint1llat3 @distant-velleity @twtysevapr @cynthinesia @h0neybane @viperbunnies @linabirb @thehollowwriter @wafflethewitchboy @siphoklansan @jewelulu (please tell me if you wanna be added/removed!)

[redhoodie1723]

lando norris number one enemy now

[ironicsoap]

you are expendable, you are not expected to return

[funsize-cenobites]

Mihawk-Brain-Eating-Syndrome has seized me.

The post that started this whole train of thought came from @manofbeskar who's Mihawk thoughts, Mishanks heartwrenchers, and absolutely gorgeous art are so inspiring I feel chewing-on-the-doorframe feral every time I check their blog.

Mihawk has a complicated relationship with vivre cards. Yet despite all efforts at keeping the world and everyone in it at Yoru length he still manages to keep collecting bits of them.

Not many nowadays, its a rather intimate affair after all; to have someone give you a literal piece of their life so that you may always find them no matter where in the wide seas you may be. Assuring that you'll be the first to know should they leave that world entirely.

Far too intimate. It feels too obvious, too heavy handed, too much like handing him your heart and asking him to carry it. Such a thing is heavier than any blade and all the bloody deeds he can never truly wipe from the steel.

Its gentle and vulnerable and human. All the things Mihawk is convinced he could play at but never truly be again. But... I imagine at the start of his journey, maybe he was a touch more open. Perhaps accepting his first from a mentor as a parting of ways though he didn't yet have one of his own to offer in return.

Strange how a simple piece of card in his palm could feel like an open door. Always there, inviting him home. Always there, until it wasn't.

Mihawk will never forget the first time he felt one burning away into nothing in his hands. It went up so quick.. He had no idea it could take less than a minute to burn a home.

Then perhaps he found a crew, a more tangible place to nest and he suddenly had more vivre cards than he could tuck away on his person in a timely manner. Perhaps it became a ritual of sorts each morning, a part of his routine to tuck each one away. The captain, vice captain, and the rest of the specialists lining the inner band of his hat while the rest of the crew were individually squirreled away. A meditation, grounding and quiet. He would use it to remind himself of his role as the crew's swordsman, as their protector.

How could he forget the sharp sear of each individual card burning away, stuck close to his skin by waterlogged clothing as he dragged himself ashore gasping and choking on sea and blood and smoke. Having been left by marines that assumed he would drown because- perhaps pointed out by one that had deceived him, made Mihawk believe they were his friend to be led back to his family:

"No freak like that could exist without having eaten the devil's fruit."

How could he forget the embers escaping, dancing in the evening gloam like fireflies swarming around him? There were so many.. now there are none and gods he's been so empty since. How could such a small piece of paper take so much of him? To kill a man with a blade, even butchering him inelegantly, would be a greater mercy so long as he was dead.

Nowadays Mihawk knows better. Knows better than to trust or be trusted. That blades might chip and tarnish but they dont burn, never completely.

Yoru hums and sings in his hands as he wields her and she does not feel like home.. but she feels solid and eternal and cold. She will never burn. Her weight is bearable.

Impersonal.

Professional.

Yoru makes death an art in his hands. She is the brush not the paper, spattering fireflies over a night sky.

. . .

For years after, he kept far from others. Deciding to never get so close to anyone ever again. Safe in the knowledge he would never feel the burning sting of loss nor the cold cut of betrayal so acutely. Trust was a double edged blade, perhaps the only one he truly couldn't handle.

He was no protector.. so he wouldn't try to be.

Instead Mihawk would hunt. Chasing the marines mercilessly. Cutting a bloody path through their ranks and burning their fucking fortresses to the ground. At first they spoke of him as an insane lone swordsman, then a one man army, then a monster, a demon. The relentless yellow eyed freak that stalked the seas and nightmares of future vice admirals.

He systematically killed all those that harmed him. A shadow over the shore, a rogue wave swallowing their ships, a curse of vengeance come to reap. He destroyed all the records of his crew that he could get his hands on. If he must be cursed to slowly forget them over time, then the world government didnt deserve their memory either.

And so on it went for a time. Long enough for the hunt to lose its luster. Slaughtering sheep by the herd in search of a rare wolf.

Mihawk had almost forcibly forgotten about Vivre cards as a concept. His own remained untouched, never moving from where he hid it. He had no friends, no family, no nakama. Only a dwindling list of worthy foes to test himself against.

Until the day the king of pirates died. Until their golden age truly began.

Until he met Shanks, who held out a hand and asked him to step out of the monochrome past and into a thousand possible vibrant futures. Ones of lush reds and glittering golds, of polished onyx black and the purest, deepest blue.

.

"Here," Shanks said suddenly one night, holding out a small scrap of paper. The both of them were perched atop the ruins of a high sea wall on some remote island, enjoying the cold breeze from the north after a hard fought duel.

Mihawk, for all his composure, blanched. "What is that?" He knew and he did not take it.

"What do you think it is? Its a piece of my card." He said it so simply. Like it barely occured to him how precious such a thing was. Shanks didn't drop his arm, even as the silence stretched out between them.

"No."

"Come on, Takanome- Dont be like that! We're nak--"

"Rivals." He cut the younger man off abruptly. His chest felt too hot and too tight, burning and burning and, "We are rivals, Akagami."

Shanks must've been pouting, he could hear it in his voice, "Even more reason for you to take it. We could duel every day if you could always find me~ Come on.. Please? I want you to have it."

"...."

Hawkeyes glanced at his best friend rival and immediately regretted it. Shank's face was always full of so much hope, so much faith in... something.. It made Mihawk's heart catch in his throat every time to see those big earnest eyes staring at him almost as if, for a moment, it was faith in him.

"I don't know if I can give you mine.." He murmured. Shanks smiled soft, a little sad, and infuriatingly understanding without needing to know anything.

"I dont need it. I know you'll always find me." He pressed his heart, his home the scrap into Mihawk's palm and closed the swordsman's fingers over it. "And if I need to find you.. I'll just ask the wind."

[blazefirefox]

posting this inside joke oc thing with my bestie bc honestly this is the best things my hands have produced while blacked out lmao

little blue guy (Megan) belongs to @mapalssyrup and pink lass (Molly) belongs to me :3

[mbat]

basically i was trying to make a post talking about the theme of family and the humans in steven universe and how basically all the humans are parents and their children and like, never one or the other, and how we can literally talk about the relationships all the kids have with their parents and stuff

and it was supposed to be how that reflects on stevens life and his human half since gems dont have families and blah blah blah

but holy shit i dont know how to say all that in a smart way and i kept going in circles and triangles and squares

[al-luviec]

still haven't moved on from zane in this episode (aka I hit tag limit again and am unhappy about it)

[badgirlcoven-official]

"Willow is a bad character because she's a mary sue" me when I missed the entire point of the show

[the-lark-ascending69]

If Robin were a boy she'd be everyone's favorite character but since she's a girl she only gets to be Steve's gay best friend.

[sharky-the-idiot]

I might've already said this but I feel it needs to be said again.

Multi-Fandom fanfics are such a funny idea to me. Because yeah. Multiple blorbos from multiple fandoms in one place. Nagito from Danganronpa and Sans (do I need to say where he's from??) kiss, why not? Captain Spaceboy from Omori and Space Outlaw from Bee and Puppycat could be brothers. Callie from Splatoon could get into a fight with White Lily Cookie from Cookie Run Kingdom only to have the fight broken up by Henry Clerval from Frankenstein. Anything can happen and I fucking love it. Like.. give me more please.

[wrathevil]

You know what I think I've figured it out. Personally do not care what pronouns your Suns uses, but like.. maybe do the same for the others? Where's she/her Pebbles? Where's he/him Moon? NSH everything pronouns? And like, I wanna see at least one she/they suns okay.

[86dove]

there are age gap old man yaoi cathedrals everywhere for those with the eyes to see

[nejackdaw]

Alright, small Celann hcs I've been thinking about lately that are a little TOO small for their own posts:

He used to keep his hair short in the back until he split his head open getting thrown into a tree during the Incident The too-late healing meant all his injuries scarred, and the head wound interfered with a bit of hair growth. He let his hair get long to cover it up

ALSO used to keep clean shaven, but an identity crisis/crisis of faith/self-imposed exile does things to a guy and he developed a depression beard he got attached to. It feels weird to get rid of it not because of his wack mental state, but because he (and everyone else) are so used to seeing it on his face.

He WILL gnaw on things. He keeps things specifically to chew on because sometimes you just get really in your head about something (not necessarily bad somethings) and it helps. Modern day Celann would be the bane of pens everywhere.

GREAT at running away from people/places (Charlotte/home, Isran/the Vigil.) Leaving is a skill he's honed for years (which contributes considerably to his self loathing.) Fortunately for him his fiancee did a stint as a bounty hunter and she excels at finding people. Do you see it. They're meant to be together. I need to write that fucking lore post oh my god

[lemonynuggets]

I’ve been wondering what it’d be like to interact more with sourcemates