#my heart my soul cannot

[nukbody]

@dead-finch-420 threatened me only 40% so i better take my chances, but being completely honest having look at those old sketches made me just wanna redraw them all so here we are

[breadhalfburnt]

succumbing to the summer weather out here

[sunnydayaoe]

hi i'm the anon that asked about npd mind and i am So Excited for the comic :D just wanted to say that

Sorry I lost motivation pretty intensely halfway though... I hope you still like this haha

Erm put a lot in tags if you want more... actual thoughts on mind instead of tiny bite sized 1-2 panels

[monstrousvoice]

"What about me?"

Husk's ears flicked behind him at the sound of your voice. He didn't turn away from the stock of bottles and booze lining the bar wall as he cleaned up for the morning.

"What about you?" He grumbled. He heard you shift around on the bar stool, the leather seat squeaking with your weight.

"You said you 'know everything' about everyone cause we all bitch at you when drunk...but you didn't complain about me." The cat demon felt his chest tighten at your words. He took a deep breath in through the nose.

'Don't turn around, if you do you'll see those big round eyes and you'll crack old man. Don't turn around.' The patronizing voice in his head hissed.

"Did you want me to air your dirty laundry for everyone?" He asked, peaking over his shoulder. He only caught a glimpse of your arm supporting you on the bar top before forcing his eyes back to the bottle racks infront of him. Bottles that didn't have your smile, or match the color of your eyes...

"Pfft," You scoff in return, "You know I don't, of course! But no one else wanted it either, and you still called 'em all out. So why didn't I get the same treatment?" Your voice was soft by the end of your question. Husk didn't dare let himself hope that you would be understanding. If you knew why...you'd laugh. What other response to his feelings could you have?

'Disgust is a strong possibility...' The voice whispered once more.

"I don't know what you mean doll, Angel just interrupted me with his fake ass flirting before I could get to you, I guess." He has been scrubbing this same bottle clean since you sat down. The label was incomprehensible by now.

"Husk." Your sweet voice has gone firm. The bartender braced himself, putting on his best poker face as he turned to face you.

And what a sight you were. Like always.

You simply raised your eyebrows, giving him a pointed look. He was...relieved? to not see judgement in your eyes. Such pretty eyes...like jewels on a crown...

Embarrassed by his own thoughts he coughed into his fist, hoping his fur would hide his blush. By the way your lovely eyes darted around his face, he could guess it didn't.

"Look, I just...happen to like you as a drinking buddy more than the rest of these chumps, alright? No big deal." His tail swished along the floor in frustration. What kind of stupid ass lie was that-

"Oh, I had been hoping it was a bigger deal..."

He froze, watching as you shifted around again. You stared at the bar top, fidgeting with your hands as you looked anywhere but him. When your eyes did meet, you have him an apologetic smile and a shrug.

"Sorry, I guess I was reading too much into things...looking for something that isn't there. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable, b-bud? Eheh..." With an awkward chuckle you stood up, stepping away from the bar.

Away from him.

"I'll uh, leave you to it then. See ya later-"

"What if I lied?" Husk blurted before he could stop himself. The voice in his head was committing full arson on the wiring of his brain for being so stupid.

"H-huh?"

"Just now. What if I was lying? What if-what if you are a bigger deal to me?" He could feel his blood pounding in his veins, his heartbeat making everything sound muffled, like his head was stuffed with cotton.

But you weren't leaving anymore.

"Wh-well...I don't know, really..." You mumbled, arms wrapping around your middle in a hug. "I have some ideas but..." You met his gaze again, a small smile on your lips that definitely didn't make his stomach feel funny, or make the world seem pink and bright.

"Ideas?" The cat demon whispered, finally setting his rag and bottle down onto the counter. He suddenly found himself leaning closer to you over the bar, uncaring of the wood digging into his chest and unwilling to pull away again. Especially not when you got back into your seat, leaning closer to him too.

It felt like the world slowed to a crawl as you smiled at him, one of your hands sliding across the counter to nudge his hand. Gentle. Hesitant.

"Well, dinner always sounds nice yeah? If that was something you'd like to do~" You cooed. He couldn't stop the small smile he gave you even if he wanted to.

"I'd uh, have to agree. On the dinner. Dinner is always good." Fucking god above just have Alastor step in and crush his soul right now, he sounds so fucking idiotic-

"Great!" You perked up immediately. "I know this niche little place a couple blocks from here, they hardly ever get robbed cause no one notices them. They have some pretty good steak and whiskey." You looked at him hopefully, like the promise of meat with some quality whiskey wasn't his absolute dream date.

How did you get more perfect the longer he spoke to you? Wasn't the point of being perfect that you couldn't improve anymore? And yet here you were, somehow proving it was possible with no effort.

"I think I'd like that darlin'." His fingers found their way in-between yours, entwining your hands together.

Yeah, dinner sounded real nice.

[tatakaeeren]

Same smile…yet so different 💔 | Part 1 | Part 2

[captainsweet]

I AM SO NORMAL I AM SO NORMAL I AM SO NORMAL I AM SO NORMAL I AM SO NORMAL I AM SO NORMAL I AM SO NORMAL I AM SO NORMAL I AM SO NORMAL I AM SO NORMAL I AM SO NORMAL I AM SO NORMAL I AM SO NORMAL I AM- ←(Person who just watched mutant mayhem)

[vanidrabbles]

Neuvillette: [fully immersed in a new case file, listening to classical music, occasionally sipping his water glass, very focused]

Furina: [upside down on his office's couch] Do you think lakelight lilies have feelings?

[just-another-obsessed-fangirl]

breaking hearts for the fun and it's bloody

day 7 of @jagertittyshipweek: blood (i know it's not day 7 yet, i was just too excited to wait)

bloodless human version here:

[warpedpuppeteer]

Buck was a baby when they took his marrow for Daniel and it failed and Daniel died. How much did his parents blame baby Buck for it?? They can't even stand him when he's an adult I can't imagine how bad it was as a baby?? I'm thinking if they left him crying to himself because they didn't want to deal with him. If they just fed him and changed him and just left him in the crib so that they didn't have to deal with him. And baby Buck is just there all alone babbling to himself because his parents wouldn't care to play with him or comfort him.

I wonder if Maddie had to awkwardly carry a baby Buck from his crib so she can try to play with him or to comfort him when he was bawling so hard his face was red and he was gasping for air and Maddie couldn't stand the fact that their parents didn't do anything. Even if she had just lost her other baby brother. If she had to learn how to make milk just right so that she could feed him anytime, even through her own grief. If she hated changing diapers but she didn't want him to get a rash and so did it anyways. I wonder if she's the one who saw him crawl first. If she saw him holding himself up on furniture to start walking and cheered him and little baby Buck just grinned at her and tried to toddle towards her. I wonder if his first word wasn't mom but "mathie" (because he couldn't say the letter d yet). I wonder if he'd look for her when he was upset, throwing a tantrum when she wasn't there and his parents tried to calm him down but all he screams is "i want maddie!". I wonder if he'd have a nightmare and crawl into Maddie's bed and hide there. I wonder if he asked if he can help her comb her hair and Maddie agrees even though he tangles it. I wonder if Maddie got him his first football, teaching him how to kick a goal.

I wonder if years later, when they're more apart than they've ever been, Buck will curl into a little ball while crying and think about crawling into Maddie's arms to feel loved again. If Maddie thought about hugging Buck really hard and hiding under the covers, so that she could feel safe again, fingers trailing over a postcard he sent, smiling but his eyes sad, hoping that even though he's sad, that he's safe. I wonder if every time Buck travels in the jeep, he feels like Maddie is with him, showing him the way. Maybe he even calls the jeep Maddie sometimes and talks to her, just to feel like she's there.

I wonder if Buck walks Maddie down the aisle and thinks about how he once toddled towards her because she loved him, kept him safe and happy and now Buck gets to walk her towards someone who makes her feel safe and happy and loved. And Maddie thinks finally. Finally they are both happy and safe and together again.

[mitskiluvr]

watched the haikyu movie thinking it was going to be normal but unfortunately i came out battered bruised bleeding and 5 years younger, back in 2019 watching haikyu on my couch and trying to get my sister hooked on it

[codacheetah]

What the hell. Kitty cat

[killuaisaprincess]

🧡🌟🌟🧡

[eyrieofsynapses]

good evening, all. it is May the 25th. our lilacs are blooming, just as the ones at the Watch House did. and I am thinking about remembrance of the fallen, and GNU, and the love in commemoration.

y'know, I read Night Watch… oh, maybe a year ago and some months ago. and the lilac symbolism, the remembrance of the Watch, has always struck me with the depth of the emotion of it, the tangibility of it in the flowers. but I wasn't aware that today was the day until I saw commemorative posts, all that gorgeous artwork and more, on my dash.

I was also not aware, until now, that fans commemorated the day not only because of the book reference, but in support of Terry Pratchett and of those with Alzheimer's. which knocked me over a bit because of course, of course the group that would use GNU to honor him would do that. and… I've been thinking about GNU a lot, lately, and this caught me again.

I read Going Postal a bit ago, and reread it recently. both times, the parts about GNU made me tear up. this idea of the names, the memories, the lives of the clacks workers who dedicated themselves to ensuring that people heard each other's voices—all those names spoken again and again and again by that which they poured their souls into, winging along in the air as they could not, an eternal reminder that they were loved—how could that not touch a person's heart?

when I found out that fans online used it to memorialize him, I damn well cried. hell, I still tear up just thinking about it. do you know, there's a code for an HTTP header "X-Clacks-Overhead: GNU Terry Pratchett" written by Reddit users to put in webpages, where it goes unseen by the average user? and in 2015, when Netcraft took a survey, there were eighty-four thousand websites using it? it's eight years later—how many thousands upon thousands of websites have this now, do you think? how many little cables of light has his name flown along, now? how many times?

that alone is absurdly and unimaginably lovely in its own right, but… there's something else to it. there's something about remembering with the lilac sprigs every year, just as Vimes and those who were there remembered their dead. something about how, when we take up our lilac sprigs, we carry a little piece of the characters in our hearts, too. I kept trying to put my finger on why that makes me tear up the way it does. the conclusion I came to is this:

what greater way to honor a writer is there, but to honor them the way they did the characters they poured their heart and soul into? what better way to say we know you and you are not forgotten and your work and words and gifts to the world are held in our hearts forever than to remember them by their own words, their own vision? how else could we say you embodied all the good you believed in and wished to see in the world, but to memorialize them after the little pieces of their soul they wrapped in ink and put upon the page?

it is a knowing of the writer, to remember them in their way. it is not a worn-out faceless platitude, but a reminder that their work has been read and will continue to be, that the characters and world they loved enough to bring to life last just as their name does. such remembrance is warm and loving and delights in their memory even as it grieves.

and now Pratchett's name has been written in his tradition, over and over and over, across the vast plane of the Internet, where it will—with any luck—continue to fly for generations to come.

there is no way to truly express the beauty of that… but perhaps we can catch a glimpse of it in the lilacs, both ours and the Watch's.

[drawfee-quot3s]

comment down below if you'd like castform better if it didn't have big ol yabos

- karina

[the-priestess-of-dawn]

"This is not your— your fault..."

"I told you, I'm Robin. The Robin that murdered you and became the fell dragon, Grima."

"Promise me you'll escape from this place..."

"Please, return to the Table! It's too dangerous!"

Not only did Chrom's dying wishes not come true, the exact opposite did. Robin blames themself for everything to the point of embracing it, and the site where their heart was shattered becomes their only shelter.

[faresong]

complacent father & despairing heretic