#maxine is so me

[blackalisondilaurentis1996]

[malartsorte]

Consistency? i dont know her

[emerynn-art]

she just can't catch a break </3

[maxescheibechlinichacheli]

[lyrakanefanatic]

i made this little lyrason thingy because i love them and i will always love them

btw in case anybody’s wondering, the quote on the side that says “you’ll meet her, yada yada” no it’s not from the grandest game it’s from pan’s labyrinth and i found it on pinterest. it just seemed fitting for them (ESPECIALLY the part where it mentions her being sad for days at a time. like lyra kane is that u??) so yeah 😜

[clarissaweasley-10]

i still cant believe that old brat Santa, didnt give me a "Hawthorne Brothers buy 1 get 3 free package set" 😤😤

[gaycrittercentral]

STREAM DOODLES BABEEYYYYYYYY

the context for all of these is somewhat lost due to them being based on jokes between me and everybody in chat while I was streaming, so I've added in some explanations in the image IDs. I owe a lot of these ideas to everybody who came and hung out with me during the streams, so if you ever have an idea you'd like to chat with me about or see me draw feel free to come hang out at the next one! I'm always happy to take suggestions ^^

[biillys]

HAPPY 4TH OF JULY (post)

[blackalisondilaurentis1996]

𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓴 𝓪𝓲𝓷’𝓽 𝓱𝓸𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓲𝓽 𝓹𝓪𝔂𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓫𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓼

[beastsovrevelation]

If it isn't my beloved celestial harpy, most holy Michael the Archangel herself (meaning, I turned this into proper line-art). ⚔ Good Omens has insulted her, but she will always be Supreme Commander of the Heavenly Host in my mind, and in my fics. I can only try to do her justice.

What do you think, should I colour it? It almost looks like a colouring page, I'm tempted to print it, and colour it with pencils or markers. ✏

[maxescheibechlinichacheli]

The many times Toey got dragged around by Q in the amusement park.

And the one time he got dragged of to get a boyfriend.

[lyrakanefanatic]

Nash, talking to Lyra with his brothers: You know, you remind me of something.

Lyra: What?

Nash: A glass ballerina.

Lyra, who sees an opening that she is no doubt going to take: Wow…

Lyra: Men really can’t go two minutes without comparing women to objects.

The hawthorne brothers:

[clarissaweasley-10]

THAT'S IT I'M BREAKING INTO JEN'S OFFICE TO STEAL GAMES UNTOLD.

who's coming with me??

[jacobseed]

trembling hands

pairing: simon "ghost" riley/maxine sinclair warnings: angst, mentions of parental abuse, dealing with grief words: 1.4k

another one from the drafts. this was a full length version of this short fic prompt @imogenkol sent me from a while ago... anyways wow i just had to make this sad.

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Funerals were an occasion Maxine wasn’t accustomed to. When she was younger she might’ve been to a few, for family she didn’t know, but nothing that stood out to her of significance. At the time, it didn’t feel like much- just a child dragged to another place where she was meant to keep herself busy while the adults did what they had to. She was sure she had been to her brother's funeral, she wonders if she had been to her mother's. 

As an adult, she’s seen death in a hospital and on the battlefield, leading to services she felt uncomfortable attending - as if she doesn’t belong. As if she were at fault.

Today was something different. 

Piper had shown up to her apartment a week ago, emotionless and quiet, handing her an envelope with her name on it. Inside was a letter from their aunt, stating that their father had passed away and they would be holding a funeral back home. Making it known that they should attend the service.

While her sister said she didn’t want to attend, she did at the insistence of Maxine, who said she wanted to finally be rid of the memories and source of pain in her past. Yet, now that she was here, sitting in their old church with a flower covered casket in the center, the sun hitting it through the windows as if it was the radiance of God, she felt nothing but grief. 

Even though Angus Sinclair had hated his daughters for the single fact that they could never replace the son he had lost, she had hoped one day he may have changed his mind. Despite having feared him for her whole childhood living in his house- fearing his rage and drunken anger and senseless abuse- she had wanted a father who loved her. And she hated more than anything that she wanted that from him. She spent her whole life despising him and herself for feelings she couldn’t understand.

Now he was gone- leaving her feeling empty and alone. Until the very end, to his dying breath, he had not cared for the daughters he left behind. 

“We should’ve never come back here. Look at all these fake people- if one more relative I don’t know tells me they are sorry for my loss, I’m liable to go insane.” 

Piper doesn’t hide her disdain and reluctance to be here. She seems more bored and annoyed than remorseful. No, she seemed almost relieved. Maxine watches her carefully and wonders if she’s just bottling it all up, just as she was. She wonders if this didn’t affect her even a little bit.

“I’m happy the bastard is dead. Hope he rots in hell.”

Maxine places a gentle hand over her sisters and holds it tight. “Pip, please. Let’s just get this over with so we can go home.” 

A short sigh leaves Piper before she takes another look. “Maxi, are you alright?”

No. There was nothing about any of this that was alright. Whatever good she felt would come out of this trip was nowhere in sight and she shouldn’t have entertained the idea of showing up. She wishes her aunt hadn’t sent that letter at all. Both of them would’ve been happy going on with their lives never knowing if their father was dead or alive.

But she couldn’t cry from this overbearing emotion of despair- not here and certainly not in front of these people who never wanted them. Not in front of her older sister who had been her sole source of happiness and love- caring for and raising her when their father refused. 

“I just want to go home.” 

The rest of the day went by in a blur, most leaving Maxine alone in her seat as she stared at the casket covered in flowers for a man unworthy of their beauty. A man who did not deserve to be remembered in this way. She was surprised anyone could recognize the daughters of the deceased, but she was sure their aunt had something to do with that - neither of them had returned home in the ten years after they left. Even then, it was hard to remember people that were never around to begin with. 

After the service, they stayed the night in an inn, refusing the offer to stay at their father’s home to clean out what they wanted. They wanted nothing to remember him by. Maxine couldn’t sleep and stared up at the ceiling, lost in thought. When morning arrived, they packed up and took the long journey back to London. 

However, before she knew it, she was staring up at her apartment building. Piper was watching her carefully with eyes full of concern and she took her sister's hand in hers. “Maxi.” Piper pulls her attention back. “Do you want to come stay with me for a bit?” 

“No.” Maxine answers softly as if she doesn’t trust her own voice. “I want to be alone tonight.” She notices the worry in her gaze and she forces a smile. “I’m alright, Pip. I’m just going to sleep.”

However, inside her quiet apartment, she sits in the dark for hours, watching a light outside the window flicker. And as the rain comes, she watches as it runs down the glass in streaks. Her phone lights up every so often, dimly illuminating the space around her, but she pays it no mind as her thoughts cloud.

A knock at the door startles her from the darkness and she shifts slightly to listen, as if she possibly imagined it. As if she were a child again and she waited to hear her father’s boots thumping against the hardwood, towards her room. The knock comes again, a little louder than before and Maxine jumps to her feet, glancing at the room around her as if she were looking for something - anything - to save her. 

From the other side came a familiar voice she hadn’t heard in a while and her panic subsided. “Sinclair, open up.”

She rushes to swing the door open and immediately searches for him. “Simon? What are you doing here?” 

One look tells him everything he needs to know as he pushes his way inside. He keeps the lights off - he doesn't need them to know where she is- her breathing uneven as she holds back her sorrows gives away her position. “You weren’t answering your phone.” He speaks low and pulls off his mask. “Your sister told me everything.” 

Silence settles over them again and his hand brushing against her cheek sends a shiver down her spine. She’s worried he’s going to say he’s sorry for her loss. She’s not sorry. She shouldn’t be sorry. So why does it feel like she lost something she never had? 

“It’s okay.” He whispers, swiping away tears from her face with his thumbs.

Maxine doesn’t know when she started crying, but it’s impossible to stop now as she sobs. He was the last person she wanted to see her like this, and yet, she was thankful to him for showing up. The thought of being alone scared her and there was no guilt with him in the way she felt towards her sister. 

With trembling hands she couldn’t still, Maxine reached out for him. and with firm determination he holds them steady in his own, pulling her closer.

“Breathe, Maxi.” Ghost whispers evenly, voice unshaken. “I've got you now. Breathe.”

She does as he says and takes a slow deep breath and as she exhales her head falls against his chest. His presence is a comfort she never wanted to covet, but his warmth and care was enough for her to want him all to herself.

Although she was confused by his sudden display of compassion, Maxine felt herself sink into his arms and silently prayed to whatever God was listening to allow her to find the salvation she needed from her grief. Simon Riley was no God, but he held onto her tightly and his gentle lips against her head felt like a clear answer to her prayers. 

And as her breathing slowed and her eyes stung from the tears, she found herself asking him to stay with her and wasn’t ashamed as they moved to the couch and she laid against his chest. Fears of her past coming to her the moment she closed her eyes were laid to rest as she realized she was only thinking of the man who held her. Of his warmth and his safety and the heavy beating of her heart.

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