#and nothing will make me stop
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I genuinely CANNOT handle this like holy fuck
#like seriously#I’m fucking losing it over here#look at them#LOOK AT THESE BOYS#god fucking dammit#Nicholas and Seiji#NICHOJI#THE YEARNING#THE DESPERATION#I am internally chanting KISS KISS KISS#and nothing will make me stop#it is still so wild how nuts I get over this comic#dig my teeth in and shake my head like a raccoon#bury it in my heart and then just keep cradling it#FUCK#you don’t even know#I can’t adequately explain it#I can’t#fence comic
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the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.
three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.
two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.
their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.
one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.
i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.
i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.
and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?
you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.
a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.
someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.
#writeblr#warm up#this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru#but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist#ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school.#like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it.#was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes.#but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create''#when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work#part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just#like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent.#speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r#ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week#this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice.#''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism#imagine if we said that about literally any other profession.#''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt?#u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky''#we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY#''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''
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they should hire me as like a stunt double but for when they need someone to express screaming and falling to their knees and tearing at their clothes levels of grief in movies and shows. not only would i be great at it but i think that a regularly scheduled cathartic wail would do things not even the best medication and therapy money can buy could for my mental health. you wouldn't even have to pay me i'd just show up ready to go like a working dog finally getting an opportunity to fulfil its life's purpose.
#🐉#nothing makes me more jealous than an actor getting to scream and beat the ground with their fists until someone has to#physically hold them to stop them from doing permanent injury to themselves
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ur highschool bully gojo was chefs kiss 💋 what do u think about them going to the same college and taking the same classes?? and the reader sitting next/talking to some other guy and satoru gets jealous?? arwahhhshdhshshs so many possibilities, i hope u continue writing it!!
hi nonnie !! thank you so much :) this is ur official part 2 ! i was struggling to think up some possibilities but this helped a lot :oo | read part 1 here ! -> cw: swearing, jealousy, i let it get fic length oops
(former) highschoolbully!gojo on the brain again… like. when you end up seeing him again however many months later, and you can tell that he’s changed. it’s not like its immediately obvious to anyone who doesn’t really know him like you (used to); but he’s a little softer-spoken and his smiles seem nine times more genuine. it’s not a hundred percent; the kind that really lights up his face instead of just barely falling short of his stark blue eyes, but it's something.
of course, you have nothing to base it off of, because when you do inevitably see him again it's the very definition of meet ugly.
college is a new frontier, but its also a clean slate. its your first time going into something so new without your old bestfriend at your side, but some faint flickering thought reminds you that it might be better that way. but the universe is against you from the very first day, when youre gettin yourself some coffee from the same chain you did the morning of that fateful presentation so many moons ago. you're too busy thinking to yourself what kind of strange parting ritual it is to relive your trauma to notice the lanky, white-haired boy who hits his head on the chiming bell over the doorway. people are giggling around you n sighing dreamily but youre too deep in the music pumping through your headphones to notice and your eyes are glued to the class schedule on your phone, trying to ensure you dont get lost on the first day when—
you blink and your ass is flat on the dirty floor of the coffee shop, and the first thing you register is that your stomach is soaked and burning. you'd spilled your coffee. it takes you a moment to realize, but when you do you're pissed. so you quickly get to your feet, trying to reign in what little of your ego you have left to give the offender who bumped into you a piece of your mind as you look up, then..
how unlucky do you have to be?
just like that, satoru's slid himself back into your life, after ramming through its locked gates. you forget that he always forgets the point of keys, both when it comes to his apartment (which you still have the spare key of in case of emergencies), and the door to your heart. to rub salt in the wound, the only thing that's stained with your coffee order are his shoes, which look like they cost three weeks of your old job salary, but it's all over your shirt. of course it is. because why not? make it look like you tripped and fell into a patch of mud on your way to the lecture hall and tack on an unwelcome reunion with your ex-bestfriend.
to you, it's like the cloud of gloom from your highschool youth has resettled over your head like a swarm of gnats on a dreary, hot summer day. the stars always seem to skew and misalign themselves for you. but for satoru, the stars have handed him one of those huge swirly lollipops that you only ever see being paraded about by toddlers. he recovers almost instantly, trading the burn on his feet and the way it sours your expression like he's just squirted pure citric acid into your throat for a pleasant burn of his own on his cheeks. but it's whatever. girls seem to like it when he blushes, for some reason. he won't question it, if it works on the only one he cares about.
he holds his hand out, ready to help you out like the good samaritan he's become— and it's like a real burn to his heart this time when you ignore it and stand up on your own, refusing to look up and meet his pleading gaze. might as well have taken an iron stoker right out of the fire and jabbed him with it. but he's gojo satoru! he won't be defeated by this one mere, maybe very significant reunion. he's got stamina.
so he offers to buy you a new drink, feels his heart sink when you shake your head (can't even spare a little 'no' in his direction), and talks enough for the both of you when you leave the dingy little store make your way down to campus and the lecture building. you clearly don't want to see him, but he ignores that in exchange to notice the way you shiver every so often. the previously searing-hot coffee that stains your shirt turns cold fast, and moisture n wind don't mix well. he wishes he could offer you some of his own warm coffee, no doubt sickeningly sweet, but he has some sensitivity now, apparently. so, in a brash moment, he decides to take his blazer off and drape it over your shoulders instead.
when you cross the threshold between city and campus, you expect him to yank it off your back and be on his merry way. but he keeps walking next to you, so you walk a little faster, and you absolutely loathe the cheeky little grin that curves the corners of his lips up to show a glint of teeth when he effortlessly keeps up. you curse his long legs when you find yourself winded, but at least you can lose him when you get there.
or, that's what you think. once again, your constellations break themselves to rebuild anew for satoru. you're about to call him a stalker when he follows you all the way to your classroom with that smirk that's growing exponentially until— oh, no.
your phone that's been on the schedule up until now desperately scrolls to the roster— and there it is. he's in your class. needless to say, not another word goes between you as you stomp in and take a seat. luckily for you, you've already corresponded with your roommate's brother (who's annoyingly cute, satoru notices) and agreed to sit next to each other. satoru takes the seat right above you and never stops kicking his freakishly long legs against the wood the entire time.
so yeah, it's obvious he's not a saint; he still has that undoable ego and he's cocky as fuck (as you have the misfortune of finding out when he quickly bullies your professor), but there's a certain familiarity in that no matter how ugly it might appear to others. and if you asked (which he really, really hopes you will someday), he doesn't hang around douchebags who use kids' foreheads for ashtrays and treat girls like they're candy from a glittery pez dispenser. and at least he's switched harassment targets. even though he has an overwhelming sense of superiority over others and never has his lips together for more than five seconds, and even though he has this hellish habit of clicking his pen whenever he's not talking (or when someone else is), it seems like he's changed.
and over time, you gradually find yourself warming up to him. the spunkiness that used to get on your nerves ceaselessly becomes an object of endearment, and you don't really mind the way he never seems to stop moving anymore. it's a nice sort of distraction in the lifeless still of the lecture hall, albeit the pen clicking still drives you near insanity. you notice he always does it obnoxiously and quickly when you're talking to your roommate's brother, but you ignore it.
and for satoru? he hates that he can kinda sorta really tell that you're the only one who can read him like he's a damn book, cus you slowly start to soften up in the nostalgia of his presence like cold playdough between warm fingers that tell you he may have finally caught you again after letting you slip the first time. and he notices it. this time, he's determined not to let you be the one that got away again. but youre really giving him a shit time outta it with the way you constantly entertain the guy who always has his breath in your face.
yeah, he's got a cute face that's sunkissed by freckles. yeah, his hair looks like he models for shampoo companies. and fuck, he has a nice voice. but what of it? satoru's the one with the mesmerizing blue irises and the cloudy white hair your professor wishes he had instead of sad little wisps of old age. still, as chilly days turn into frigid weeks, he gets the perfect backseat angle of the growing relationship between the two of you. the boy's kinda dumb so you copy off of satoru’s work when you need to (he has to hide the 1-0 scoreboard between him and the guy on a sticky note from you when you take his notes), but said guy’s always buying you stuff and lending you erasers and laughing when you flick the shavings at the annoying girl who never stops whispering in the front of the room.
satoru tries to act unbothered, and he almost convinces everyone. including himself. but the angry, burning knot in his chest that's entirely different from coffee stains suggests something more. that should be him at your side. him, making balls of paper with rude scribbles and silly doodles to throw at the people he knows you don't like. him, surprising you with little gifts and the cheap trinkets he knows you adore so much instead of all the luxury things he could afford. there's no way this punk could possibly measure up to him, right? but at least you and satoru are well on your way to becoming friends again. not as close as you used to be, but it's something. substantial. and he's learned to be patient in the time you've been gone.
but he'd be lying through his teeth if he said he wasn't tired of it. he’s endlessly plagued with thoughts of increasing intensity— first, it starts out with just you. only you. the way he likes it. the way he likes your face, and your pretty eyes and your gorgeous lips and your soft hair and your figure and the complimenting clothes you wear. but it takes a turn; thoughts turn into dreams that turn into fantasies and he's lying when he says he doesn't enjoy them when he accidentally lets it slip during a group study session— and it’s all fine— but then, that guy appears. the brat who seems to sit a centimeter closer to you with each coming day. not only does he haunt satoru in real life, he’s tormenting his dreams, too. tainting the image of beautiful you.
needless to say, satoru starts to wake up with his hands gripping his damp pillow like he's choking it, acutely aware of the sweat sliding down his neck and over his chest as he stares up at the ceiling, listening to the dorm's air conditioner run and thinking of what it'd be like for dreams (the ones where he replaces the boy) to become reality.
it's a buildup. and soon, he reaches the apex; it's like a rollercoaster, that stomach-twisting moment when you reach the top of the rail that points to the steep descent downward. but this time, he hopes it's a thrill he gets instead of the usual falling fright; the one he got when he realized he’d slipped between your fingers in highschool.
and satoru finally comes to a grinding halt at the top of the ride one breezy fall day when he decides he wants you back in his life after you smile brightly at him and wave goodbye for the day. he’s tired of you having one foot in and one foot out of his heart; he wants, needs more. he always has, he realizes.
so he’s thinking about you and how to approach the feelings he’s realized during those long lectures, and one morning he comes up with some semblance of a plan when he’s high on the sugar from the fruit tea you bought him that morning. and he hopes that, by the end of it, he'll leave your apartment with your hand in his currently empty one, chilled with the remnants of cold condensation from the bottle.
soon enough, satoru finds himself extinguishing his nerves and raising a tense fist to knock on the door with nothing but the clothes on his back and a flimsy plan to ask you out on a midterm study sesh and maybe even a date, but he stops when he realizes it’s slightly ajar. a brief thought of what look might be on your face when he surprises you crosses his mind, so he lets himself in quietly, because he knows every single floorboard that creaks like the back of his palm from his childhood. he’s hit with a wave of warmth and an achingly familiar scent that twists at his heart, and your apartment is cozy and safe and it screams you and he thinks he catches sight of his jacket slung across the back of the couch in your living room, but he’s not sure so he takes a step forward and—
he’s greeted with the sight of that stupid guy with the nice hair and the freckles, and it makes his heart drop. but even worse, he’s kissing you and his arms are winding around your waist but you’re kissing him back with a slight hesitation that’s blinded to satoru by his shock and the fingers he thought would end up in his own tonight card through the boy’s hair and your lips glisten with the strawberry-kiwi flavored gloss he watched the boy give you a few days back and his world is turning red and he feels like his throat is constricting and he can’t breathe—
and he doesn’t even realize you’ve parted lips and you’re calling his name through the newfound tightness of his chest and the painful ringing in his ears thats even louder than any silence of a lecture hall, or the void that should’ve been filled with your voice during the time you were apart. but now satoru realizes he’d take that any fucking chance to have that again because it’s so much better than what he’s stuck with now. having you, but not really having you, because you’re there but you’re someone else’s and you’re not his and he isn’t yours. the best thing he could ever hope for was for you to own an article of his clothing and a piece of his shattered heart, broken into a million fragments. some cruel voice in his buzzing head reminds him to change the scoreboard to 0-100.
and he could buy you cheap hot coffee or earn your smiles from scrunched up paper balls or even hear your laugh with crude jokes, but there’s no point when he realizes he can’t buy you with caffeine or earn you with hitting the back of people’s heads with his bio notes or have you and your laugh all to himself anymore.
it’s almost pathetic, the way satoru’s voice cracks and changes. the look of unadulterated concern on the face of the boy who stole your lips just adds fuel to the fire.
“gojo? what are you doing here— hey, are you okay? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
he noticed you’d stopped calling him satoru a few weeks back. he should’ve seen it coming.
“huh? oh, yeah. i’m good. i think you’re the one hallucinating.”
he’d never told a bigger lie in his life.
satoru had left after excusing himself for intruding. how very unlike him to be so polite, you think.
so in the end, he leaves your apartment with something in his hand, after all. but it's not your own— just his blazer that you’d given back to him before he stepped out the door, taunting him with the faint scent of coffee and lingering perfume. his hope was foolish, so it seems. it’s too bad, he thinks. if it were him, he would’ve sandwiched you against your counter while he kissed. but it wasn’t. apparently, it was your turn for your stars to align at the price of his.
and so, gojo satoru, the boy force-turned man with a chipped ego and a completely broken heart, loses you again.
bonus bonus.. part 2….
#here u go. yes!! u!!!!!! sorry it got long#thank you guys for the reception on the last part literally checking tumblr religiously the rbs and comments made me feel like floating#yea hes a hopeless loser srry i dont make the rules#ABND I TRIED TO HOLD HERRR but there was nothing i could do to stop her from cutting her beautiful blue hair off 🐐🐐#gojo satoru#gojo angst#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo x reader#gojo x you#satoru gojo#jjk gojo#gojo jjk#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x y/n#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk angst#did not proofread b i hope it’s good 🙇♂️🙇♂️#actually i j realized the coffee campus intro part is similar to another fic i’ve read sorry if u noticed that it was on my subconscious 😞#billet-doux
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I would pay an ungodly amount of money for a Supernatural finale where Dean rescues Cas from the Empty and tells him he loves him too, Eileen comes back to be with Sam, and Jack chooses to live with the four of them in the bunker as a happy family.
#if someone has the contact info for whoever I would need to pay to make this happen pls send it I’ll start a go fund me#the finale we got was so bad and its only really just hitting me how bad it was#like they really said f you to all the character growth that we saw over the 15 seasons#i can’t stop thinking about it#i’ve been reading fix-it fics for 3 days straight but its just not the same#i might try and write my own fic because nothing has everything I want#destiel#supernatural#castiel#spn#dean winchester#deancas#dean x cas#sam winchester#supernatural fandom#eileen#eileen leahy#jack kline#sam and dean and cas are jack’s parents#fix it fic#sam x eileen#saileen
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scene from my newest chap of seb discovering that daisies are also his favourite flower (and why)😊
#seb is literally the 'everywhere i go...i see his face' meme except with clora BAHAHHA#i legit picked cloras fav flowers to be daisies just bc they remind me of her LOOL so now im making that the reason seb likes them#hogwarts legacy#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow x oc#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian sallow fanart#hogwarts legacy fanart#hogwarts legacy sebastian#clora clemons#working on modern au stuff now hehehe cant stop wont stop#choccyart#GET SOMEONE WHO LOOKS AT U THE WAY SEB IS LOOKING AT CLORA HOLDING THOSE DAISIES U DESERVE NOTHING LESS
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what if i said that yall should not be blaming Curly for Jimmy's actions, what if i said that yall taking the blame off of Jimmy and attaching it to one of his victims because he's not a perfect angel is WRONG and it PISSES ME OFF and its DOING EXACTLY WHAT JIMMY WAS DOING IN THE GODDAMN GAME TO BEGIN WITH!!
#THE ENTIRE TIME HES BLAMING OTHER PEOPLE FOR THE THINGS HES DONE GUYS!! STOP!!!#oh my god they cant hear me they have their airpods in#but anyway#curly did bad things dont get me wrong BUT SAYING HE WAS AT FAULT FOR JIMMY ASSAULTING ANYA??? BRO HUH??#he did nothing to make her situation better but putting him on the same moral level as fuckin jimmy is sick#mouthwashing#mouth washing#captain curly#curly mouthwashing#jimmy mouthwashing#wrong organ
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Prompt 162
“So,” Danny drawled from where he was sitting, legs kicking slightly. Really, what a fun reincarnation. A world with heroes and villains where he didn’t have to do shit in and could just vibe with Ellie.
“So,” Tim responded from where he was typing on his computer, mostly in civilian clothes save for his gauntlets and boots. The Red Robin outfit was haphazardly dropped across the couch and his pole leaning against the end.
“Technically there’s proper procedures for clones…” Danny motioned to both himself and Ellie from where they sat on the counter, snacking on a plateful of scones. From Alfred, he was certain.
“Technically, yes… but do we want to actually do that?”
All three of them smiled, something almost feral in the motion. Of course not. They all had the same memories after all, and Bruce had just returned from the past, from exactly where and when Tim had said he was. Despite no one believing him, hence why they were in his boathouse, and not in the apartment or manor.
“Think we can pull it off?” Ellie took a sip of tea, mischief swirling in her eyes.
“Of course we can.” Both Danny and Tim spoke at once, one pulling up a new doc and the other pulling the whiteboard out from under a curtain.
#dcxdp#dpxdc#prompts#danny fenton#ellie fenton#tim drake#Ras: *Makes Tim Clones*#Danny & Ellie: Lmao we’re gonna blow up this place and go- buh-bye now~#All three of them are salty about the whole time-travelling thing#Tim: Why is one of my clones a girl?#Ellie: Idk man but I’m not changing#Tim: Fair enough do u want me to make you guys proper IDs#They’re going to do mischief and make the Batfam think they’ve always been triplets#They have the paper trail to prove that the Drakes had triplets#Neither Danny or Ellie have powers but that isn’t going to stop them#Nothing can go wrong ever they’re sure#Why yes this is inspired by the Ao3 fic Twincognito Mode#Why YES Bruce does in fact think he somehow adjusted the timeline#And Yes Clockwork does do a little nudge to make their IDs & history *pretty* solid#He's back in Long Now eating popcorn and watching his new favorite show
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Aggie drawings that I ended up liking
I finished spearmaster’s campaign today.. very awesome
#rain world#rain world fanart#rw fanart#rain world spearmaster#rw spearmaster#rw rivulet#rw saint#colors are so fun#this is actuallt such a non issue because nothing was stopping me from using colors while I was only making isat fanart but .#I missed colors
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have you ever shared your comic making process? im super interested in seeing how you go about everything from start to finish!
#grey answers#grey’s art process#grey will not gatekeep any knowledge!#this is all very messy and approachable !#come play in the mud with me kids!#comic process#comic making#kill your perfectionism kids!#😂😂😂#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel comic#I should say I’ve been drawing non stop for like 20 years too and got a diploma in illustration#but still this is just twigs and mud nothing scary!
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the brainrot won
#GUY S i know i haven't posted anything in a while and thats because im working on a big cool project that i really want to finish without-#distractions. but uh. as you can see. ive been distracted 😔. still working on it tho!!!! and im very happy with it turns out its just-#super time and energy consuming so ive tried to limit my intake of other media to not make myself want to draw other stuff#i also haven't read the last two (two already?????) chapters of RnS and im very sad about it and i want to read it but you know that if i-#read it ill want to make fanart and then ill never finish my project :(#SO. sorrey for the lack of art itll be coming when im free to draw!!!!!!!#but also. yes ive watched new life because i dont want to go insane with nothing but this project on my mind and umm. had to take a little-#break to do a couple designs for fun... and to switch it up a bit because for real im going insane i think#ALSO. friend got me into zelda botw and i haven't played a whole lot yet (because project) but ive tried to take some inspiration for-#designs from there. at least for joel and scott. everyone else not so much...#WELL ANYWAYS this is getting long. i should really stop rambling in the tags and just make separate posts for all this but i dont want to#umm. tags.#new life smp#smallishbeans#mythical sausage#geminitay#pearlescentmoon#smajor1995#inthelittlewood#my art#sketch
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hey wanna see a silly fucked up headcanon I had
HYPOTHETICALLY him drawing these triangles is a mindless cry for his parents, that maybe, if they weren't entirely gone, they'd be there watching him.
#makes him feel a little less abandoned#GNAHAHAHA#EVIL#hes so ALONE#that being said i love how the henchmaniacs arent doing nothing to come get him#granted they probs think hes dead#but that doesnt stop the feeling of betrayal bill probs has HAHA#like how DARE you i gave you all a PURPOSE and you DITCHED ME#GOOD FOR NOTHING#anyway i love em HA#this is such a low point for bill and he deserves it 100%#my art#fanart#bill cipher#gravity falls#the book of bill spoilers#book of bill#thisisnotawebsitedotcom#this is not a website
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It’s sooooooo hot here I don’t want to draw anything o(—(
#it occurred to me one day that there’s nothing stopping me from drawing the gigolas fanart of my childhood dreams#anyways#I’ll make proper illustrations again one day#when the weather isn’t so terrible and I can think coherently#legolas#gimli#gigolas#lord of the rings#lord of the rings fanart
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whoops gay awakening part xx
#its that one scene in the donghua#scum villian self saving system#scum villain#shen qingqiu#sorry nothing revolutionary from me#more lazy rendered 3/4 busts haazah#anyways guys do you know that i cant stop thinking about nie mingjue and huaisang#they make me so sad i keep obsessing over how huaisang dealt with his grief OR if he even#let himself mourn before he finished enacting his revange#i have so many thoughts i should make a side blog for all my dumb thoughts
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#‘stop drawing aventurine blushing over nothing’ (DROPS TO MY KNEES) NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO#★ my art#art#honkai star rail#hsr aventurine#aventio#hsr dr ratio#ratiorine#hsr golden ratio#2.2 comes out at 6 for me ive been tweaking all day sorry if im scaring everybodh#i love drawing over my drawings but it makes that last text completely illegible#Oops?#★ arin rambles#just a little tho.#‘how did he get injured’ doin somethin stupid.#He probably fell in the shower#its just a hc i have that like. hes clumsy#yeah he survived attempting to shoot himself 3 times. but you know what he cant survive? his untied shoelaces#‘his shoes dont even have shoelaces!’ See thats why#cuz he keep trippin
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So remember me in a softer light
#my art#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#megumi fushiguro#fushiguro megumi#megumi#fanart#jjk fanart#sighs and theres 3/3#this one also suffers from lack of meaning lack of impact now imo :(#still a good piece still a good Mood#but my meaning....................#it is like a scooped out pumpkin 2 me. nothing in it.#but that is ok bc it means megumi can still come back !#i will stop complaining i will stop tempting fate i do not want to create death omens unless it becomes inevitable#megumi i believe in u believe in the me that believes in you#anyway i dont know if ive ever talked abt it but i LOVE in fic when megumi's hair is described as 'inky' like YA THTS THE GOOD STUFF#i dont often make his hair entirely jet black in pieces but whenever i do or whenever the grey/blue i use is dark enough#i always taste the word inky in my mind n it makes me go >:D#when the black cuts against th skin tones .... Stark contrast no values.....delicious i shld do that more#OH YA OBLIGATORY FV CAPTION: OVERTONE#not a very megu song but i love the lyrics
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