#bc that's an important tag

[kelbunny]

More experimental art + redraw from ~2 years ago.

I stand by the opinion Roland deserved a scene where he learns Maxwell is okay.

Original below cut haha

MMMMMMM yummy improvement

[valeriapryanikova]

This season, on Hermitcraft...

(speedpaint)

[inkskinned]

in internet posts it is easy to cut them out of your life. they are hurting you! they aren't listening to you!

they held your hair back. they lent you lipstick. they held your hand at the train station and got you home safe. they rounded on your bully, got loud, said get fucked, spitting-mad in your defense.

they also cut the hair off again. told you that you should really think twice before wearing something like that. took you for granted. took your insecurities and threw them in your face again.

you know logically it should be easy. all the internet advice comments always read it will feel better. like an equation - if a person is rotten, you just remove them. you pull the tooth that's hurting.

but it was never a big flare-up moment. you don't live in a sitcom. they never tried to take your boyfriend or steal from your apartment. they showed up to birthdays and they wrote songs about you and bring you water without you asking. once you found out they carry an emergency inhaler for you, even though you haven't had an asthma attack in years - just in case.

where is the line? people fuck up. sometimes they fuck up badly. sometimes people have raw personalities, like a powerline, and being around them is dangerous. addicting. sometimes they can't help themselves, but you know they're trying. sometimes they are just rough-around-the-edges. sometimes they don't even realize how they sounded when they said that. sometimes it's just - you've both loved each other for so long now, the way this thing hurts goes back to the root.

and that's the fucked up part. you have pushed your fingers against the sweetheart of memory. things these days are electric, tense, harrowing. they didn't used to be. there were a lot of good days in there. sometimes you want to just close your eyes and say can this be over yet? do we still need to be fighting?

doing that would give up any chance you get of getting an apology, but you don't always know that you need an apology, you love them. once they flaked on your birthday party. once they told you to get over it, people are always dying. they also let you crash on their couch for a week after the breakup, handfeeding you when you were so sad you couldn't eat. they are also judgmental about everything, occasionally react to banal statements with an attitude that is weird and fiery. they also love you like a lighthouse sometimes, so strong they cut the storm like lightning.

but the problem is that you might be storm. you might be the thing that needs breaking. what if you are two forces who are desperately, horribly drawn to each other, shaped by the other person's passions, and both good for each other and bad in equal measure.

what if you're both just people, and you're no saint neither.

just cut them off! swallowing the saltwater, you catch yourself in the mirror. you've been shaking more than usual. there's an ache in you that is oblique, loud, impossible to soothe. is this what it looks like? when life is "easier"?

your mouth will always have a hole, is the thing, if you remove the tooth.

[aalghul]

once again thinking about jason as duke’s robin. he’s ~4 years younger than jason, and that puts him at 8-12 during Jason’s time as robin. that’s prime time to get attached to your local kid vigilante before your own life goes downhill.

and if we try to keep duke’s meeting with bruce in zero year + duke’s age (so he can remember the meeting and hold that conversation with bruce), he has to be around 8. if he starts following batman through the news at that time because of the mess that just happened, the robin he sees is probably jason. I’ve literally connected the dots

[cipheramnesia]

Tumblr stop recommending me horny sapphic blogs that all say men dni in the pinned post, go back to sending me posts from the one that's just horny all the time please, I want the fat furries and the queer freaks that are way less respectably normal about me and my body.

[theoldkyokodied]

One wedding and three funerals

Background paintings under the cut

[the-heart-of-a-monster]

THoaM Issue 9 PAGE 11

NEXT PAGE –> <– PREVIOUS PAGE

new to thoam or want to reread the comic but its really awkward to do on tumblr mobile? The official website has got you covered!

[hatepotion]

chappell study

[jazforthesoul]

every time someone reduces CAPTAIN !!! elizabeth "lizzie" lafayette down to "a sad lesbian" a fairy dies bc i shoot it with my gun. like you're telling me you were spoon-fed a character that has one of the most realistic and RAW representations of grief and perseverance in the series and all you got from that was "she's sad" ????

is she a constantly happy character? Fuck no! that's acknowledged!! but to take EVERYTHING that she is, which has positive and negative aspects THAT ARE BOTH SHOWN, to take the fact that she is THE DRIVING FORCE OF THE MAIN BACKGROUND PLOT, and reduce her down to NOTHING but her relationships?? ?what the hell!!!

[fridgrave2-0]

hehe ghost-turbo haunting felix au

turbo is connected to the last piece of his code in the whole arcade - a trophy he gifted to felix in mid 80s as a symbol of him genuinely caring about their relationships on par with being the best racer. felix also gave him one of his medals and both kept their gifts next to other rewards, but when roadblasters and turbotime were unplugged, the medal was gone with everything else

now, after burning in cola-lava turbo is basically dead, but scraps of his code still were intertwined with the trophy (after all, it was his first winner's cup, but felix never knew about it), giving turbo an opportunity to exist as a shadow incapable of interacting with anything and anyone besides felix, who kept the trophy even after the roadblasters incident

also I went crazy in tags, feel free to check them out

[stark-lord]

Constantly plagued with thoughts of Edwin now knowing he enjoys being courted and Charles (compulsive charmer) with a whole new arsenal up his sleeve (laser focus on Monty’s whole deal)

“I mean, my smile is prett-y convincing” yeah yeah okay I can see where this is heading. Outlook not so good (for me)

[p1x1x]

this is ROCK !

[post live exhilaration]

[goodguydotmp3]

Apparently calling out the tokenization of minorities by imperialist powers counts as "sexually explicit"

[callmearcturus]

The vinyl comes with... this. This is not the lyrics to the songs. I'm gonna transcribe it, because I think the first time you listen should be with this.

You are about to listen to an album by the Glass Animals. You don't always listen to albums from beginning to end, but maybe you will this time. It was written for you. (Linear Notes by Gabrielle Zevin)

SHOW PONY

You are a child. Before you were a child, your parents were children. Most origin stories begin with love, and yours is no different. Once upon a time, two people fell in love, and then it ended. It's the first love story you were every told, and it teaches you the one certainty in life is that all things end. From this point forward, you are not a romantic. They call you the cynic, and to protect yourself, you take on many forms.

WHATTHEHELLISHAPPENING

You are kidnapped. You are in the trunk of a moving car, fetal position, darkness, screech of the tires against the road, the scent of gasoline. You don't know how you got there, but it isn't the worst place you have ever found yourself, and in a way, it feels inevitable. You know you could die, so you find yourself thinking about all the people you have ever loved. The trunk is like a womb. You could live here forever but eventually you'd get lonely. Your relentless need for company is your hamarita.

CREATURES IN HEAVEN

You are a psychic. You ask your lover if they want to know the hour and the day that the two of your will part. They laugh at you, and they say they don't believe in psychics. You suspect that their failure to believe in your gift might be the problem that leads to the demise of your relationship. But who cares? This relationship ends in three months, and you may as well enjoy it. Evanescence can sometimes be a profound pleasure.

WONDERFUL NOTHING

You are a prizefighter who is in love with a boxer. You say, "It's a bad idea." (JAB, JAB, CROSS.) And the boxer says, "It's only a bad idea if it gets in the way of our work." (SLIP.) And you say, "Promise me you'll never pull any punches." (CROSS. CROSS. HOOK.) The boxer swears they won't. (SLIP. JAB.) But when you fight, the boxer always pulls their punches, and you never do. You're pretty sure this makes you a bad person. You're a prizefighter, and you do not love this boxer or anyone enough to pull punches. (JAB. CROSS. HOOK.) Just before throwing the knockout punch, you whisper, "I love you so fucking much."

A TEAR IN SPACE

You are a sock. You are an earplug. You are a miniature glass horse. You are easy to misplace. You are you, so you think you matter. You are nothing. No one even notices when you left the party.

I CAN'T MAKE YOU FALL IN LOVE AGAIN

You are an astrophysicist. You believe you can use sound waves to control time and space. A song is a time machine, you tell your colleagues. If you sing the right song, you could transport the lover to a particular time and place. You could reverse time, and if you could reverse time, you could make them love you again. Your belief in science occasionally makes you pathetic.

HOW I LEARNED TO LOVE THE BOMB

You are a damsel, and you are in love with a monster. You're not sure how it happened. You'd been warned about such creatures by the fairy tales of your youth. But in bedtime stories, the monster always presented as monster. The beast was hirsute, the vampire had fangs, the wolf in your grandmother's clothing was clearly not your grandmother. But your monster is clean cut and has good teeth. They knock at the door. You invite them in, and just like that, you are fucking a monster. You should be upset about it, but you aren't. The thing they don't tell you about monsters is that they are sexy as hell.

WHITE ROSES

You are Proteus. You are a god and you can change forms when the situation calls for it. This is hand for work, but difficult when it comes to relationships. You have occasionally been guilty of taking a form that you knew would make you lovable to some unsuspecting mortal. But it always ends the same way. A terrible row at an inconvenient time-- say, just before you're about to leave for the airport-- and then, you're forced to reveal yourself. You don't always mean to change forms, but it's second nation for you to shift a bit here and there-- pretend you like a certain band, express an enthusiasm for sport. Are you shapeshifting, or are you concealing yourself, and is there a difference in the end? Still, you love making people fall in love with you. Every time you do it, you promise you'll never do it again. And they you do it again.

ON THE RUN

You are an escape artist. You are handcuffed, straitjacketed, loaded into a zipped and padlocked duffle bag, wrapped in chains, tossed into the bottom of the ocean. It is billed as "The Greatest Escape of the Greatest Escape Artist, and the Culmination of a Career of Death-Defying Acts!"

The spectators on the pier anticipate your deliverance. They are sure you'll surface because you always surface. They aren't fearful; they are waiting to be dazzled. What they cannot know is how bored you are of dazzling.

You exit the bag, careful to take the props of your confinement so there will be no remains. You swim to another, distant pier. You don't see the people on the pier cry. You don't read your obituary. It's no longer your concern.

A week later, you are homesick, and you concede that your plan has failed. You miss the people on the pier and your cat and your bed and your favorite restaurant and your wristwatch. You don't remember what problems your faked death was going to solve so you can't say if it solved them.

The greatest power in the universe is nostalgia, and it that's true, maybe the people on the pier will forgive you. maybe you could come back from the dead. Now wouldn't that be the greatest escape ever?

LOST IN THE OCEAN

Who are you, anyway?

Why are so many songs addressed to you?

It's simple, you think. The songs are for you because I love you so fucking much, and when you say you, you mean all the yours: the parents and the child, the damsel and the monster, the escape artist and the crowd on the pier, the sock and the one who forgets the sock, the prizefighter and the boxer, and the world that contains all these people. You are all the lovers you failed, and all the ones who failed you. You are the lovers you haven't yet encountered-- there will be many because this world is filled with people to love. You are the singer, and you are the song. And you conclude that the only way to resist the ephemerality of all things is by singing love songs to you, whoever you are, wherever you are in the universe.

[obscenicon]

earth c section

IMPORTANT NOTE: ROXY IS A TRANS WOMAN. THIS IS TRANSFEM PREGNANCY

[caramellody]

Yall i dont think im gonna be able to stop thinking about usha and g13, actually.

Ushas an old old woman, clueless with tech. Lived long enough to develop various bonds with a LOT of people and relies on them a lot for help. In turn, shes VERY loyal to her close conpanions (a great example would be how she tends to back paula up a LOT, the way she sets up russel and paula to 'fake date' wink and all). She's very warm and very emotionally intelligent even if she's a bit clueless sometimes. Her logic is borderline incomprehensible, but it has heart.

G13 on the other hand, is a hacking prodigy. Hes young, hes sought after for his skills for better and for worse. But in turn, he's essentially lost himself in the process. He may be able to scrape nuke codes, but he'll never make a friend. He lacks any loyalty for anyone and anything except for himself and his interests, and if they dont satisfy those two points, then its worth nothing to him. His logic may be sound, but its cold.