#non-shippy

[hyakunana]

Pocky Valen when?

[anime-lover-mooncake]

Lucifer being a lil' shithead

[zishu-arts]

here’s the little ,,, thing? idk what to call it sorry it’s so messy bruh my pen is fucked up

[jakkenpoy]

[varpusvaras]

So, according to the background lore, while growing up on Kamino, if the clones had any bouts of anger or frustration, they were put into the "retraining tank" which was essentially isolation. And at some point, this just kinda manifests in the clones in not being able to express their negative feelings properly, and either pushing them down or dealing with them by isolating themselves, because those two things are the only things they know how to do that somewhat work.

The Jedi help with this, of course. They teach their men how to meditate, how to express themselves, how to deal with their negative feelings and also let them go and not let them fester, and how the clones adopt this part of their conduct as well. Meditation becomes almost mandatory. It's not strictly enforced by the Jedi, but it is enforced by the Commanders and the rest of the men, especially when Shinies come from Kamino.

The Guard doesn't have a Jedi.

What they do have, is empty closets to go sit in quietly or maybe scream.

It's the best and the only thing that they have.

[finchmarie]

Doing a lil v-day sale! Want to focus on shippy art to continue to build out that portfolio! 🖤💖

Offering for my tumblr fam only 25$ smooch sketches! Full color sketches, but will likely be shoulder/waist up and I might be a bit experimental with coloring! (Look to recent OC sketches for ideas).

FinchMarie-studio.com has a contact form, feel free to DM, email FinchMarie@PM.me or use discord @ FinchMarie

[nebulousmedic]

I feel like they can relate when it comes to that, at least. Ahh, I'm having many angst thoughts.

[kradeelav]

Flora peeked around the wood shyly; the little young maid was in training and already quite professional in her studies to become a retainer. The pale haired maid must have been there eavesdropping on them for a few minutes, judging by her line of sight—and was studying the large map rolled across the floor with awestruck interest. Gunter called her in after Corrin waved; any little bit of company that the shy princess accepted without fear was welcome and a boon.  That rainy afternoon in the gloom, Gunter taught the two little girls all the principalities that dotted across Nohr. The moppets were better students than most soldiers, and he would never show it, but he took genuine delight in their attentiveness and the incisive questions that both pelted his way, taking care to give thoughtful responses back.  Gracious, they were downright ruthless at times.

innocent days in the northern fortress ~

an early scene from my fic - your ruin, my ruin (fe: fates, eventual gunter/corrin)

[kitmoss]

[anominous-user]

quick doodle of vill-v and aponia and griseo

[koipepo]

Solon x human! Woodkid (oc) comic doodles. an expansion of this scenario.

i wanted to draw smth casually without going crazy about lineart... hence the scribble. was going to straight up drawing the deed but i wanted to develop their dynamic more

[threepoint14art]

FHS Shipping Week day 4: t4t, jealousy

No one specified the jealousy was specifically romantic jealousy so I get to loophole my way into killing Golden!!! yay!!!! Trans hell!!!

A lot happens when Golden leaves their home to live with Fox—or around that same time. One of those things is Fox getting outed as trans. Golden tries not to make it about themselves, to push it aside, to not dwell.

But the feelings creep in anyway—ugly, shameful things that rear their heads no matter how hard they try to suppress them.

And then comes the guilt. Why should they feel bad about Fox being trans at all? What kind of person does that make them? The answer sinks in with a sickening weight: jealousy. A deep, unbearable envy that twists in their chest.

Golden has been the golden boy for so long. Their name, their face, their manhood—all immortalized in the eyes of the public. People already know them. People will judge. And then there’s Fox, who has lived as himself since he was a child. No one questions him. No one scrutinizes his past. No one even knew.

It stings. It burns.

Being nonbinary in Latin America already feels like a joke. But for someone like Golden—someone whose masculine face has been printed, shared, and recognized—it feels worse. It feels like being a clown.

Fox passes effortlessly. Even after being outed, people dismissed it as a ridiculous rumor because it was easier to believe he had always been a man. But Golden? There is no "passing" as nonbinary. No milestone to reach where people finally just see them for who they are. They will always have to explain, to correct, to remind people of their existence. Fox can simply let them assume.

"You look like a man—chin, shoulders, torso. I look like a man—chin, shoulders, torso.

You are a man.

I am a clown."

[thatgoddamngingerundercut]

BTS Memories 2016: Making of Blood Sweat & Tears MV Suga and Jimin

[greenleaf4stuff]

TROP x twitter text posts

(screenshots via cap-that.com) (my other trop memes)

[st427ey]

im definitely not The Most dedicated watcher fan seeing as i fall behind on their content a lot but man it just takes ONE (1) video for me to become hyperfixated again. literally the easiest fandom for me to return to and its all bc those 2 guys wont stop openly flirting on camera

[what-have-i-unleashed]

Killer & Cross 79

shame on me........ what am i supposed to do with this.........

79. reality (lofi version) - nyxtheshield

cross stands before the door. it is unlocked. he hesitates before opening it with a creak, the sound echoing ominously. cross ascends, his breath shallow. the air grows colder the higher he climbs.

at the top, killer is sitting in a room lit by a single, flickering bulb. the skeleton looks different from what cross remembers: his face leaner, the tear tracks on his face darker. his smile is a crooked thing, playful and cruel. he holds his injured, bloody arm close to his body. even in pain, he moves with a grace that sends a shiver down cross’s spine.

“crossy,” killer purrs. “i knew you’d come. you always did have a weakness for unfinished business.”

cross steps forward cautiously, his blades drawn but lowered. “you’re hurt,” he says, his voice quieter than he intends. “let me take you in. this doesn’t have to end like this.”

killer’s laugh is harsh. “oh, but it does. you wouldn’t have followed otherwise. you’ve always been more noble one between us, cross. now look who’s trying to save people who don’t want saving.”

“i have to try,” cross replies, his voice steady. “otherwise, what’s the point?”

killer tilts his head, his smile widening. “what about you then? have you saved yourself yet? or are you still running from the monster you used to be?”

the words strike like a physical blow, and cross’s grip on his weapon tightens. killer’s gaze seems to pierce right through him, trying to dissect him like a bug under a microscope.

“you think i don’t know you?” killer continues, voice low. “i was there with you, crossy. every decision you made, every compromise - i witnessed them all. and now you want to pretend you’re the hero?”

cross grits his teeth. “i’m trying to be better. i’m trying to fix what i broke.”

killer’s laughter echoes, louder this time, filling the room like smoke. “fix? there’s nothing to fix. you’re just rearranging the rubble. face it, puppy, you’re no different from me. the only difference is that i stopped pretending.”

“you’re wrong,” cross says. “i turned away from the darkness. you could too.”

“did you though?” killer leans in, his voice a whisper now. “you could have stayed a ghost. lived a peaceful life. avoided being in this mess. but here you are, hunting me down like the good little soldier you still are. face it. you haven’t changed at all.”

cross opens his mouth to respond, but the words won’t come. killer’s smirk deepens, and he steps back, his uninjured hand sliding to the table beside him. he picks up a knife, twirling it between his fingers like a toy.

“you should go,” killer says, his tone light, almost playful. “this is your last chance, cross. next time, i won’t be so merciful.”

“i can’t let you walk away,” cross says, his voice breaking. “not after everything.”

“oh, you’ll let me,” killer replies with a wink. before cross can react, killer hurls the knife, not at him but at the light above. the bulb shatters, plunging the room into darkness.

the world seems to tilt as cross staggers, his vision swimming. by the time his eyes adjust, the window is open, shards of glass glinting like stars in the night sky. killer is gone, his escape as quiet as a dream fading with the morning light.