#mother is here ig

[beansprout-tea]

RIP TO THAT CORPORATE BADDIE 😩

[crismakesstuff]

cast out of paradise

[kidovna]

Trailer for my grad film If I Raised My Mother!

[pain-is-my-game]

It's so funny to me watching my mother react whenever I say I'm getting treatment for an issue that I've had since childhood

"Why didn't you tell me? 🥺"

Ma'am you don't really care about me as much as you think you do.

[scuorge101]

Finally made an actual design for the kid in this little post awhile ago [My ramblings of a Eury and Ctimene fan child].

I choose Lysander as their name but I’m free to suggestions. Not sure if I will continue with the AU or not tho.

My idea is that just like how Eurylochus was the voice of the crew, they would be the voice of the people in the kingdom.

[im-smart-i-swear]

*through gritted teeth* i support womens wrongs i support womens wrongs i support wome

[stars4krios]

Agni design for WIP Wednesday

+ her next to Zuko's full body

[johnslittlespoon]

also whilst doing timeline research last night for what gale's transit journey was like after he went down (bc i'm apparently a stickler for historical accuracy in my yaoi wwII fic) i cried so hard i burst a blood vessel in my eye. really realllyyyy wish i was kidding but i woke up and looked in the mirror and gasped, i cannot show my face in public atm.

[lemonbeemon]

The intense, life altering, motherly instinct I felt booting up SOTE for the first time and meeting Moore & Thiollier needs to be studied

[deus-ex-mona]

i miss her…

[kismetmoon]

they’re gonna execute the Mother to elevate the Man

[ID: a digital painting of an original stylised Flatland character, referred to as Mother.

Mother is a humanoid character with dark grey skin, clawed blurry disembodied hands and a sharp point on top of her head.

She has a light grey veil-like covering over her face, which also drapes down her back. The veil has a circle marking in the centre. She is wearing a long grey dress with long angel sleeves that end in ruffled cuffs and a skirt that rests on the floor, a dark grey sash around her waist and a dark grey pelerine.

She is facing directly forward, with her arms held out to her sides and her hands splayed open. She is stood in a white arched doorway above a light grey floor with a large dark red circle behind her head, akin to a halo. The light from the doorway is illuminating the surrounding pitch black space. There are two thin trails of blood coming from under the veil that go down her neck and onto her pelerine.

End ID].

additional shots including the initial rough draft and plain line work that i like under the cut <3

[ID: three images that show the same illustration as above, but with as different versions. The first image is the uncoloured line work version, the second is a rougher sketch version with a dark grey background and white star-shaped halo, and the third image is the exact same as above but Mother is farther away. End ID].

[faaun]

pls i need to provide updates

[demons-i-get]

WAIT BIG BRAINED THOUGHT:

Sam does smth stupid hoping Dean won't find out.

Someone rats Sam out to Dean.

Sam gets in trouble and a lecture from Dean (bc Dean is a parent and he is Sam's parent I will not accept criticism on this matter).

Later, Sam makes a group chat consisting of everyone who could have told on him to Dean and just sends this video:

[sheila--e]

sorry for the vertical pics mb 😔 ubmm tweaking their fursonas lol... Giorno is now a pudu-caracal hybrid (he's got true chimera patterns because I thought it looked cool), and Fugo looks a bit more like a hybrid now.. + some doodles of Chinese Water Deer Giorno that I reconned but still think look kinda nice

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

🐇&🐢

version w/o grain:

[morocosmos]

FFXIVWrite 2024 Day 11 - Surrogate

Masterlist Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Characters/Pairings: Leofard Myste & Warrior of Light Rating: Teen & Up Additional Notes: Takes place at during HW patch 3.5. Major spoilers for the Shadow of Mhach alliance raid questline. Ao3 Link

Lady Raimille. The picture painted by Stacia's tale was everything an orphaned child could want from a parent. Everything except that she'd passed on too soon — but not before giving her foster son one last gift.

The noblewoman’s real portrait hung above them, enshrined in Leofard’s quarters. Presiding over his affairs and his family; watching over the man himself. Moro'a knew that paintings like this cost a considerable sum to commission, and that taking care of them required specific knowledge and attention; unexpected obligations for a sky pirate. 

But the painting gleamed, immaculately free of blemishes. “I had wondered as to the origin of his vessel's naming,” Cait Sith said softly, his voice touched with emotion. “‘Tis a most beautiful painting.”

Moro’a’s time in Ishgard had also taught him that portraits like this one were made to memorialise — a likeness captured in brushstrokes, preserved from time. Remember me as I was, in this moment. Remember what this person means to us. Situated where their loved ones could gaze upon them, and never forget.

I doubt I'll ever feel worthy to sit where he sat.

Throughout their adventures, Leofard had pretended as though the portrait wasn’t there, and it was all Moro’a had needed to know not to bring it up. He’d accepted it without judgement, without ever considering otherwise. What was he here for, if not to hide from ghosts and broken hearts; from memory?

But now that Stacia had told them what Leofard would never impart himself, the pieces that made up the leader of the Redbills had finally begun to click: why a man who prized freedom so highly would build his new home a stone's throw from the Holy See, and why the loss of his airship had made Leofard retreat into himself, like a creature seeking familiar refuge. 

It seems she kept him safe until the very end, Utata had said, and Moro’a’s heart had clenched so tight that he thought it might shatter.

It wasn’t any of his business. The voidsent had been stopped, and Cait Sith had found a new home. His time with the Redbills was coming to a close. It’d been an engaging distraction, which was precisely what Moro’a had needed; there were no stones left to overturn, no more accidental revelations to be had. He would go his separate way, into the unknown, and then…

Later, as he was stowing the few essentials he’d brought into the manacutter, Moro’a heard footsteps approaching. He turned to see Leofard, who was already dressed in a clean set of clothes and red-tinted goggles. “I almost forgot,” the sky pirate said, as breezy as could be now as he held something out in his hand. A Redbill scarf.

“You didn’t have to,” Moro’a murmured, feeling a strange mixture of reluctance and guilt. 

“And I say otherwise, Warrior. I reckon you’ve done more than you’ll ever need to to have earned this.” His hand stretched closer, and Moro’a considered refusing. He was ready to quit this place, to move on. I’m not who you think I am, he wanted to say. 

Instead he found himself reaching out for the scarf, and tucking it in with the rest of his things.

If, after he'd said his farewells, his hand reached under the collar of his shirt to gently hold the necklace that rested against his chest, to remember, he was the only one who needed to know.