#not at all a very traumatized man

[absolutelynotsanebaby]

do you guys ever see this phenomenon in fandoms where they play such strong Trauma Olympics that there's this 'agreed' fanon with specific characters where they aren't traumatized or aren't 'as' traumatized as other characters and then you look at the character in question and they are/should be traumatized as fuck in all actuality? and it's entirely because the traumatizing event or backstory is 'subtle' (usually not really, just less 'dramatic' than other characters). I see it all the time and it drives me nuts. Like how are you going to look at a character with an abusive father, dead mom, and is a soldier and go 'he's not traumatized' or his backstory isn't 'bad' like GIRL

[eyes-of-nine]

pls assume i'm thinking about this moment 24/7 all week every week

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

so how about that update, huh

[mossy-paws]

Get in the fucking biograft, Shuriken. (EVANGELION/PHIGHTING!)

(og screenshot’s/cover under text!) Why hello there to my tumblr followers, it’s been a awhile /silly

ANYWAYS!!! Guess who recently finished the EVA franchise minus the rebuilds and has been in a horrible chokehold over it, this anime ruined my life but hey at least its intro theme is nice……

Well, I wanted to draw some stuff for it! All together these pieces took exactly 48 hours and 20 minutes… with the cover-piece taking ~35(?) of those hours. These were… very, VERY time costly safe to say LOL,,, I am super, SUPER proud of how the cover came out though, everything on it was drawn, colored, rendered, edited, whatever, BY HAND stroke by stroke (as you can see below)

The text, the lineart, the shadows, the colors, the snowflakes on the bio and Shuri, EVERYTHING was done by hand, it was horribly time costly but it did come out very, VERY well in the end I would say (fun fact! I also didn’t originally have the textless version of the cover, and I had to trace all of the lineart for bio’s tophalf by just guessing what line when where and what the hell was going on /silly)

this was a very, very hard project to do all together, but it was also a really nice learning experience too, I’m happy i did it that’s for sure :3!

(og screenies + cover)

[feenixmork]

A couple quick drawings of my faves during ongoing Utena watching (have not drawn the actual best character yet (Chuchu))

[ineed-to-sleep]

It honestly baffles me that some people are so casually dismissive of animals' feelings. Istg some ppl only see pets like toys and are barely able to hide it

[guest-1-2-3]

so. never consumed any mcu content whatsoever. however i have recently stumbled upon peter parker/harley keener fanfics, went down a rabbit hole, and am now obsessed with their dynamic and i realized i have just fallen into the trap of another blond + southerner + sarcastic + calls-his-boyfriend-darlin’ + infinitely supportive + big fucking nerd x incredibly traumatized + sarcastic + italian + orphan + definitely-started-saving-the-world-too-young + big fucking nerd ship. i am nothing if not predictable

[keys-hellscape-1020]

Yeet.

A/N: this is just pure word vomit. I’m so sorry. The title is SO bad but I was giggling so hard when I wrote it. Also this is literally so fucking self-indulgent.

Summary: Spider-People have a sixth sense. This is common knowledge to anyone who intimately knows one. What you didn’t know however was that it can occasionally misinterpret intentions, leading to disastrous results.

Hobie Brown x gn!Reader

Contents: No use of Y/N, anxiety mentions, reader gets full on thrown through a window, reader dissociates (symptoms of dissociation are described in depth), reader gets injured, angst, hurt/comfort

————

It was mid-afternoon, the sun starting to lower towards the sky-line as you hauled your bags back from the grocery store. It wasn’t a long walk, not by any means, by the bags were heavy with ingredients for dinner and the sun was at the perfect angle to shine in your eye.

As you dragged yourself through the lobby of your apartment you could feel your heart flutter at the gentle vibration of your phone in your pocket. Hobie must be telling you that he entered through the window. How you longed to see him, today had been impossibly long and he had a subtle way of making everything better.

As you shuffled your way into the elevator, smacking the button awkwardly with your elbow, you impatiently watched as you rose through the levels of your apartment building.

It felt like a century. But eventually you were met with the sweet ding of the elevator reaching the correct floor. You dragged yourself one last time out of the elevator and down the hall, however instead of the sound of sweet guitar cords you were met with silence.

You anxiously creep down the hallway. When Hobie comes over he always plays his guitar loud enough for the whole floor to hear. As annoying as it was to your neighbors you couldn’t find it in you to ask him to stop, the sweet melody melting the stress right off your bones.

You somehow manage to mangle your key out of your pocket without putting anything down, and as soon as you’re inside you’re dropping your groceries without a care in the world and pulling out your phone.

As you unlock it your worst fear is confirmed, it was Hobie texting you alright. Him not playing his guitar almost certainly meant something was horribly wrong. To make matters worst Hobie had said he had a “surprise” for you. That made the anxiety in your stomach twist even harder, the idea of one of Hobie’s many enemies capturing him, or using you to get to him sparking to life in your mind.

You leave the door to your apartment open a crack, just incase you need to run, and creep down the hallway. The door to your bedroom is open just a crack, and light is spilling out of your room, causing you to hold your breath as you creep closer.

You perch on your toes, hoping to decrease the chance of someone hearing you as you near the door, hands posed at your side, ready to fight for your life or run as fast as your legs could carry you at a moments notice.

You lean on the door frame and push the door open another few inches using the side of your foot, holding your breath as the hinges let out a loud squeak.

When you don’t hear any immediate threats coming from inside the room you carefully shift your weight forward, gripping the door frame like it would keep you from harm.

You feel your heart leap with relief as you see not one of Hobie’s enemies, but Hobie himself. He’s sitting in your desk chair, facing the closed window. He has his guitar in his hands, but that is not what stands out to you. Instead what stands out is the pair of headphones on his head, forcing his wicks out of the way in a messy way that shows he has not taken much care when placing them on his head in the first place.

You scrunch your nose in delight at the comical sight and decide that some teasing is in order, after the near heart attack he gave you.

You creep forward, your movements reminding you of a cat as a Cheshire grin grows on your face. You still completely when you’re in pouncing distance and you see Hobie’s finger still on his guitar strings. A small cue, but one that indicated you’re plan would be foiled if you didn’t attack right… Now!

You pounce forward, you barely feel your nails scrap the thread of Hobie’s shirt before a firm force is pressing on your stomach, pushing you up and over yourself.

You can barely breath, a second and an eternity pass as you crash through the air.

You don’t think you’ve ever hit anything as hard as you just did.

The top of your head and one of your shoulders feel the crunch of the impact first, but it does nothing to slow your movements as your thighs crumple downwards you, and then past you still.

It doesn’t take you long to realize that you’re falling.

Not that you had a long time to realize.

You didn’t realize that you had the instinct to face the ground. Was that something that was impeded in every human? Or were you simply privy to this trait as you saw your boyfriend leap through the air on a near daily basis?

Whatever the cause, your descent is stopped by the feeling of something pulling on your back. It reminds you of how a bully would pull on your backpack in middle school, only if the bully was a double-decker bus instead of a 12 year old.

Your internal debate on the nature of 12-year-old assholes is stopped as you feel an arm wrap around your waist, pulling you in through the cracked frame of a window.

You didn’t remember being pulled in the wrong way through the air. Traveling in reverse. But it would be impossible to forget Hobie’s face staring at you with as much concern as you’ve ever seen on it, eyes wide and almost glassy.

You can feel the tightness of his grip on your shoulders, and you’re sure his fingerprints will be imprinted in your skin. You can see his mouth moving quickly but you can’t hear his voice.

You look vaguely at the busted window frame, the wood is cracked and splintering in nearly a hundred places. You fear your landlords reaction when he sees that. How are you going to explain it?

You feel Hobie gently brushing your forehead with his thumb, pulling you from your thoughts. You look down and see small specks of glass, almost like glitter, dusting your lap. You raise a hand to your head and it comes back a deep vermilion, you swear it sparks the same as that damned glitter.

You feel Hobie’s hand on your cheek, turning your eyes towards him.

“You with me?” Hobie’s eyes are large and concerned, troubled brows peering at you.

You can barely find the strength to make eye contact, mind still far off, falling through the atmosphere, clouds catching in your throat.

You feel Hobie’s firm thumb on your cheek, consistent pressure pulling your mind back down to earth.

“Hey now. Focus on me.”

You blink a few times, and slowly feel your bones becoming solid once more. You can hear the traffic out the window, Hobie’s breathing, feel the warmth of blood on your head. You find your chest naturally matching the rhythm of Hobie’s as he breathes deeply, prompting you to copy him.

You go to reach up to your head once more, intent of seeing how bad your injury is, but Hobie grabs your wrist and pulls your hand back down.

He stares at you for an intense moment before he scoops you up bridal style, being so incredibly gentle as he stands.

“Let’s get you cleaned up Luv.” He sounds more quite and subdued then you have ever heard him. He walks oh so gently, slow and smooth so as not to bump or jostle you.

He sits you down on the counter of the bathroom gently, and pulls a first-aid kit out from under the sink. Typically it is you patching him up after patrol, looks like the tables have turned this time.

He works in utter silence. His first mission is staunching the wound on your head. It’s no where near the point of requiring stitches, it had simply bleed a lot as head wounds are prone to doing. He cleans the wound efficiently, and before you know it the wound is hidden by a thick, white bandage on your forehead.

The rest of your wounds are thankfully small, and don’t take much treatment. After a few wipes from a damp cloth and some Neosporin your wounds are treated. The only evidence that still prove the incident occurred recently is your blood stained clothing.

Hobie stays in the same spot he was in as he treated your wounds, hovering almost. His normally large presence has shrunk and if your didn’t know better you’d say he was trying to hide himself away from you.

You are staring at your hands, finding your fingers very interesting as the intense silence clouds the air, closing in around your throat you want to say something to break it, but your throat chokes in on itself as soon as you open it.

“I’m sorry.”

Hobie looks so small as he whispers those words to you. His hands are ghosts on your thighs, you can feel him, but you’ve never felt so separated from him. He eyes the tile of the bathroom and you can practically see him beating himself up, pulling away from you in a belligerent attempt to protect you.

You gently place a hand on his cheek and turn his face towards yours, forcing him to look at you. “I don’t blame you.”

“I know.”

“I still trust you.”

He glanced away from you briefly, and blinks aggressively like he’s fighting off tears. “Are you sure you should?”

Instead of a verbal response you take one of his hands from your thigh and guide it your head, setting the tips of his fingers right on the thick bandage that lays there. “This is proof that you care. That it was an accident and we both regret it. I trust you with my life.”

He suddenly lurches forward, pulling you into his body with a sob. You hold him gently as he cries into you, rubbing his back comfortingly, letting him feel his emotions and let them out.

You have no idea how long you sat there on your bathroom counter, blood stained clothing as you try to piece back together the broken pieces of your boyfriend without any words. But none were needed.

[harbingersecho]

[your-ne1ghbor]

Asha design reference I think idk (TKORAT AU)

She kinda reminds me of young Amaya unironically lol

(probably bc Amaya gave Asha her old clothes 💀💀💀)

(Or that I was playing with my style again for the millionth time)

I FORGOT HER FUCKING FRECKLES NOOOOOOOOO

Also been thinking about changing her sidekick animal to smth different but idk what tbh 🐀

HEheh ofc I had to draw silly angst and moment together

For her dress, Im not even done with it. I wanna add patterns that represents her and the kingdom but idk how to execute it outfit wise atm. Plus, I wanna fix some problems I have with the dress, mainly the middle and top part as well since it really reminds me of FS! Asha and I dont really want that and wasn't trying to go for that 😭

The hair was pretty fun ngl. I got to see a ton of styles in box braids and they're all really pretty :D. I simply went for the pulled back box braids since I thought it fit her well design wise.

The crown was the easiest. I was just simply looking at crowns from medieval times and I kinda got reminded of The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, And the Wardrobe. Specifically the ending where the kids got their crowns.

I felt like it just fit her design wise. But that probs just me being a sucker for flower crowns right now smh 🤦‍♀️

Going back to the dress, I was heavily looking up Spain Outfits from medieval times including some other ones, like the French outfits for example, mainly as inspriation for the outfit so I can come up with my own design of a dress for Asha :D

The rest of the dress kinda came from my pencil, I was just sketching until the design looked right to me and then was like: YES haha

I did look at her early concept version's of Asha as well, but it was only for her hair, since it is always the hair I have trouble with

(plus this is one of my fav styles I see Asha in from the art book lol)

Idk if this will be her ACTUAL FINAL design, but ig it is a part of the process of my overthinking :')

Annnnnndddd ofc thinking how I am gonna traumatize her in her childhood. Hell yeah...

...

:(

[funkinmadnesss]

Throws these here finally KDMDHSSK

I was. Hoping to have posted more original art of literally anyone else but Mysterio before these saw the light of day but uuuhuuhghhg that didn't happen got bless <3

But huzzah! Earth-4918's Sinister six (Vaguely) TSSM styled (and by Vaguely I mean I put way too much detail in them, there just TSSM shaped)! (+Tinkerer, he's not a member but I'm posting him so it's even. The last member is Sandman but he belongs to my best friend and we haven't got around to making him a TSSM ref like these yet </3)

All references/orginal images I used came from here (x) (x) !

Little facts below cut for those itchrested :]

General info: They were all Human at some point and bonded over the fact they became this way by Norman's hand. Every inhuman feature about them is purely genetic now (Excluding Myst+Tink+Sandman). The whole group bonded over their shared hatred for Osborn in general though.

Adrian: He's an Egyptian Vulture. Tall as HELL, he's the second tallest. He's technically the leader and carries the burden of having a team made up of traumatized mutants while also being a traumatized mutant-

Lizard: Trans woman, Her name is Camila :] She has exactly 5 different lizard species in her DNA (5 points for anyone who can guess them all just from her design)

Rhino: It no longer identifies with anything from its life before getting mutated in an attempt to have some control over its life. Rhino strictly uses It/Its. Aside from Rhino DNA, It also has wooly mammoth DNA.

Lizard and Rhino fuckin HATE eachother. It stepped on her tail ONCE and she never forgave it. Mysterio often has to split the two up with his Alien form.

Electro: Graffiti artist. Has somewhat control over his bio electricity, Gloves and chestplate (which is what that tube attached to the back of his head is connected to.) help maintain that control.

Tinkerer (bc he's there): (My silly, my skrungly, my funny lil old man blorbo hehheghem-) Trans man :] Has a cat he rescued off the streets (bc i kept seeing people give him a cat and its like. Its a good headcanon) He and Beck met during his stuntman days (He was technical support on a movie Beck worked on), He isn't very fond of alot of the sinister six (Him and sandman are chill tho) but he tolerates them for Beck.

Okie thats all mwah/p

[uncanny-tranny]

I think many people don't take trans trauma seriously, that it's nothing more than a joke.

As a trans person, it was traumatic to feel as though I would be loved only if I conformed to my expected gender. It was traumatic to hide away, to sever myself from every little thing that made me happy. It was traumatic to discover my gender and sexuality in an environment where I felt insecure and scared.

Masculinity and femininity can be traumatic, for trans people, this is especially true. Treating these traumas like jokes only tells me that you don't support trans people, that we have to have certain experiences in order to be valuable.

[rui-drawsbox]

Whenever i need motivation to save in twst i look at my malmal cards collection, he's truly the most precious to me (⁠ʃ⁠ƪ⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠）

[aq2003]

twelfth night is not a Shakespeare I have read or seen but now I’m a bit terrified of ever consuming it. I definitely would never touch that audio drama with a 10 foot pole though (so so tempting. I might give in)

i was normal about twelfth night and held many normal emotions about it i really liked it for being this fun very messy queer drama until i listened to david tennant malvolio which ruined my life i cannot stress enough all of my evil derangements are because of david tennant malvolio if he had not done any of that i would have been FINE

[skunkes]

why doesn't talon like looking young?

dis was gonna be in the little lore write up but i still have to iron out many details surrounding it ➡️ connecting to my general vampire lore....anyway the answer is abuse at the hands of higher rank vampires and mortal men who sought out young "boys" just like him + also he already hated that he would never get to age bc people would treat him weird even before all that (as in, they'd just treat him like he was stupid because he looks so young)

[dangerous-advantage]

(Image description below 'read more' line.)

[Image ID: A four-by-four alignment chart on a white background with text descriptions to the left and to the top of the squares.

The top left description reads, "seems like they'd be good at parenting." The top right description reads, "seems like they'd be bad at parenting."

Then, from the top down, to the left of the squares, the other set of descriptions reads: "excellent child rearing instincts," and "never trust them with a child in your life."

Each of the four squares contains an image of a different character. At the top left is an image of Lan Wangji of the Mo Dao Zu Shi donghua. He sits between the descriptors "seems like they'd be good at parenting," and "excellent child rearing instincts."

In the top right square sits an image of Wei Wuxian, also of the Mo Dao Zu Shi donghua. He sits between the junction of "seems like they'd be bad at parenting" and "excellent child rearing instincts."

In the bottom left square is an image of Xie Lian from the Tian Guan Ci Fu manhua. He occupies the square with the captions, "seems like they'd be good at parenting" and "never trust them with a child in your life."

Finally, in the bottom left square, sits an image of Hua Cheng from the Tian Guan Ci Fu manhua. He occupies the junction between "seems like they'd be bad at parenting" and "never trust them with a child in your life". /End ID]