#man idk uh

[starrrberry]

golden hour

hello all. i have writing ! nice writing not man i wanna kill someone rn writing. no tws (for once) words : 564. what else please reblog if you like it ig it helps <3 enjoy!

Every day, when I wake up, the sun will rise like it always does, without fail. For a long time, I hated it, I hated the way that it would constantly shine for me from its sanctuary of rosy pinks and soft blues, while I was trapped in a bleak prison full of dying nature. It was cruel really, this huge ball of gas had the audacity to smile down at me while incinerating everything around for endless miles. Admittedly, there were times when it was beautiful. Mostly when it was setting, when it bathed my gloomy life in sunlight, when gold and orange washed away the shadows and I could feel pure light trickling down my skin. So for all its faults (primarily causing life threatening heat waves and rushing the world with floods) it was undeniably breathtaking at the best of times. But most of the time, I was quite pessimistic. How could I not be? The vivid flowers that used to bloom at my feet with every step were drying up and turning brown, wilting into the scorched soil. Vibrant grass became brittle and dry as it was stomped into the ground by over-excited children and bustling adults heading to work in the morning. Seeing the world rundown and frail without a care from anyone else always sends a shot of anger rushing to my brain, and I never really know what to do with it. Every time I looked outside my window and watched the colour draining from every single leaf and petal, I wished for something that would help me shake off the cynicism dragging my limbs down; in those moments, I wanted something more than survival. I wanted to live. Time dragged on this way for a while, from the beginning of autumn all throughout winter. It felt as though it would go on forever, this feeling of hopelessness and anger towards the world, until I woke up one spring day and everything just felt so… right. Glittering ribbons of sunlight streamed through the cracks in my blinds, illuminating my face and melting the wooziness from my brain like overnight snow on a bright morning. Flowers were dazzling once again, delicately woven between silky blades of grass. Fuzzy bees flew dizzying paths through open blue skies, and everything came alive in the light breeze that ran through my hair. Honestly, it was like this a lot of the time during spring. But this was the first time I truly felt it. Nothing will beat the time before sunset though. Recently, I found it was called the “golden hour”, which I think is a perfect name for it! The golden hour, a loving hand that reached out to me when I was stuck in my head, the beginning of my realisation that maybe, the world wasn’t as bad as I made it out to be. It was the time that left me floating, basking in warm sunlight, a time where I was free to let go and feel the soft yellows seep into my bones. At some point, the gold gushing through my veins became my lifeblood, it let me see the world in an entirely new way. Sure, there are days where I feel angry and empty once again, but every day, when I wake up, I know the sun will rise like it always does, without fail.

taglist: @lychniscitrus @funky-writer-man @nicola-writes @abysslll @whatslovegotodowithus (lmk if u wanna be +/-)

[spoopdeedoop]

king and harbinger, old and young

[rustic-space-fiddle]

Forgive me.

[raticalshoez]

Etho "I am not a protector" Slab

[gatoburr0]

Hehe hiii samurai shiver Hii um!!

Also yes I designed the tattoos from scratch and I still gotta do the one on her back 😪

[lunarwednesday]

be mine.

[bakudekublogblog]

kacchan telling izuku that his body moved on his own is fucking crazy. like not only did kacchan remember izuku saying that all the way back from the sludge-villain incident but he’s also confirming that izuku’s crazy, boarder-line suicidal intensity is a two way street. it’s not just izuku who is insane about kacchan it’s mutual insanity. kacchan’s body moved on its own. he was helpless but to throw himself into the line of fire when he saw izuku was in danger. he didn’t think about it. he didn’t choose to do it. he didn’t have a choice. it was as if izuku was a piece of his own soul. katsuki instinctually needed to protect him above all else, even at the cost of his own life

[toki-toro]

Ummmm I don’t really understand the plot of this game despite watching a playthrough of it lol but I liked this guy

[wontonhasradsocks]

[m-kyunie]

blah blah blah perspective is stupid blah Picasso blah anyway what do u think they're arguing about?

[kenchann]

hmhmhm i want to see hermes with his full on overworld sprite again,,, maybe on olympus? 👀👀👀

oh dear i forgot melis moon thing asdfhjkll ill fix that later...

[jvnart]

Happy birthday captain yamato taicho tenzo tenzou tenzō kinoe naruto shippuden I tried to learn how to draw you today 🎉🌲🐱

[rapidhighway]

obsessed FOREVER

[bowelfly]

COMING THIS SUMMER:

7 MONTHS 36 ARTISTS 1 REALLY PERSISTENT SKELETON

IT'S THE 2023 TRUNGOTHON MEGA ART TELEPHONE GAME

[RATED R]

RIDICULOUS. this was so big that even with tumblr's recently expanded image limit i still had to weld every other image together to fit it into one post, but if you want to see every image in its full glory, i made a page for it on my website (jankily hand-coded and probably not very mobile friendly).

it was so fun to see which elements stuck around and for how long. i still can't believe the skeleton got banished and then resurrected 15 iterations later!

huge thanks to everyone who participated. in order:

@mobileleprechaun, ink drinker, @dimetrodrawn, @escherbug, @gachimushi, @ikrutt, @dunwichdrawsstuff, @mathpope, @bedupolker, @solidagold, @a-beepbop, thenauticalwarlock, @ohpsshaw, @eisly, @juenavei, me, @librivore42, @greedol, @mechabutchzilla, @phanta-friends, @tickfleato, @skelizard, elixer, @espimyte, @noctomnis-art, @bluedotjpeg, @fetus-cakes, @iguanodont, @flame-shadow, @kombuchaclock, @slimekingmike, @crtastrophe, @leona-florianova, @skelebee, @nutspider, @palossssssand, and gachimushi again for the header image to this post

whew! now time to seriously consider a yearlong 72-artist game...

[gale-force-storm]

He refuses to fall for the first person to show him kindness. He may be feeling sorry for himself, but that's a bridge too far.

Even if they are beautiful. And kind to everyone, not just him. And brave. And clever. And strong. And they love animals, and reading. And they have a wry sense of humour that he adores.

He won't. He can't. Besides all else, this is decidedly not the time. A bomb in his chest and a worm in his head and a weight on his shoulders and a shame in his stomach and a shattered heart he's still trying to gather the pieces of. Desperately clinging to the cloak of his past, wrapping himself in his former confidence, pretending it hasn't been worn threadbare with time in isolation and eaten ragged by the moths of doubt and fear and past mistakes.

He fell from grace so far so fast, but he cannot beg affection off the first hand to offer him help up, even if it is the first time he's touched another person in months. Even if that hand did send a sudden warmth through him and feel so right in his own he could almost cry from it.

...This is getting out of hand.

He can just be friendly with them, surely. How does one make friends, again? Shared interests? He mostly just has the one, so he'll share what he can. They pick it up quickly, and the warm magic that surrounds them is a balm on his soul. Right up until they imagine kissing him, and his heart skips a beat. It can't be. It can't be. They can't want him back. It's not possible. And how, after it all, after everything, is he meant to resist the overwhelming temptation of being wanted?

They don't let up, either. Lingering glances. Warm smiles. All but propositioning him at the tiefling party. If there is a single positive thing to be said about his year of orb-imposed abstinence, it's that the willpower he had to build up and the practice denying himself were the only things that enabled him to decline their advances.

Well, that and the risk of blowing up the both of them, along with everyone else in or near the camp.

The warm smiles and lingering gazes and casual touches still continue, though.

This is fine. He's fine. He can't remember the last time he felt like this, someone cared for him like this, and he can't do a damn thing about it, but he's fine. Everything is fine. As fine as it can be, anyways, given everything else about the situation.

He supposes he should probably be more upset about Mystra's orders. At this point, though, it's hard to feel like it's anything besides a way out. A relief that he can be good for something. One more miserable experience, and then he's done with it, and all their problems are solved. There are worse things.

Except.

They're so angry about it. Everyone is, but them especially. Arguing with both him and Elminster the entire time, insisting there's another option. That they'll find or make one. Whatever they have to do to keep him around.

Gods help him, but he does want to stay with them. Stay for them.

He sleeps that night, and awakens with a jolt, a groan, and a realization. He's glad that prestidigitation exists to clean himself up without leaving his tent and risking the others' notice. His body had, apparently, caught up with certain implications before his brain. Though from what snippets of his dream he remembers, maybe it was only his waking mind that had been lagging behind.

He wants them, and he can finally have them. Can give them as much of himself as he's able, in the time he has left.

He had refused, at first, the idea of falling for the first person to show him kindness. And he hasn't. He's fallen for someone who is so much more that that. And he will not, cannot, die without letting them know. If he has to leave them, and he fears he will, then he will not leave them feeling unappreciated, or uncherished, or unloved. Not when he can finally embrace the full depth and breadth of what he feels for them. Has felt for them for what can't have been more than a tenday or two, but feels like a lifetime and a moment all at once.

He will not leave without showing them the full scope of his admiration and appreciation and sheer joy at their presence. The full scope of how impossibly deeply he already loves them. Not while he has any say in it.

[pinacoladamatata]