#so chalky

[arctic-hands]

PREDNISONE IS YUCKY

[hinamie]

you're lovely in ways that i just can't explain

testing out new brushes w some lmhs itfs nape kisses :> jjk atla!au with @philosophiums

[crunchchute]

my attempt at a bunch of my fav artists styles :] idea by sootnuki!!

i would love to do more but this was already a huge challenge

if any artist here dislikes this/is uncomfortable with it/any reason i can take it down or turn off reblogs etc. otherwise i hope its ok 🫡 im not gonna tag anyone just gonna let it do its thing in the wild lol

[black-leather-sketchbook]

From brain dump sketches

[actualbird]

// cn server spoilers, big 4 ssr pv for high school au event

LUKE PEARCE CUTEST MAN EVER STUNS IN NEW PV!!!!!!!!! AAAAAUUUUUGGGHHHH

[neapenning]

Gotta include the whole family

[annieqattheperipheral]

fresh cut n errythin for his juice shoot!

so pleased he's put himself in a partnership position for constant modeling. ty nate

nose nose nose. yo his skin's looking fantastic

[storytellering]

Naught but a memory

[cookiep-cat]

If you are taking requests, maybe some BroomerxChalky?

Saw on a post that you watched EE so I thought I’d ask :)

And cool art btw

HAII SORRY FOR THE LATE RESPONSE

I love these whimsical fellows so much ❤️❤️

[lemongogo]

pinterest sketches (x, x, x)

[hremails-art]

all 7 days from the EEE ship week challenge!!! mangoberry was my whole motivation for this LOL

[verchielmarch]

helmet party WIP

[feraligatr]

i’m going to lose my mind

[batakrim]

[junk-and-disorderly]

a man of constant sorrow

He remembered the day he buried his parents. Mother was first, buried with yellow daisies and marigolds so she’d never have another blue day. Their father stood stone faced with a stiff upper lip--he mourned her pauper’s grave, instead the seat that now sat empty at the table.

When it came time to bother their father, neither he nor Al shed a tear. There were no flowers or kind words--instead they left a deck of cards and an empty PBR--it was the only thing the old man understood.

Grief was a complicated thing, the love and the pain wrapped up in one like thorns to a rose, unable to exist without one another.

But it was one thing for a child to bury a parent--death comes for all. No parent bears a child, expecting to bury them.

And Wayne?

He didn’t even have a body to bury.

The phone rang; he had half a mind to leave it off the hook. He’d heard enough bullshit about his nephew while he breathed much less… after. Now.

But he made a promise, and the only thing Wayne had left was his word. So he hobbled off the ground on aching knees with a rag in hand, away from the latest bit of graffiti to tag the trailer.

He snatched the phone off the cradle, ready to slam it right back down, when a robotic voice caused him to still.

“...All calls are logged and recorded and may be listened to by a member of Prison staff. If you do not wish to accept this call, please hang up now.”

More ringing, and then finally: “Is it true, what the papers are sayin’? Ed really kill that girl?”

He’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“That ain’t ever been Eddie, and you know it, Al.” Wayne grit his teeth--his brother was a glorified sperm donor; he had no right to claim fatherhood in any capacity. Eddie was Wayne’s through and through. He may not of held him when he was born, but he held him through every scraped knee and broken heart, and dammit, if that wasn’t parenthood what was the fucking point?

“Yeah…yeah, I know it. He’s never been much of a fighter.” A heavy silence crackled over the line, precious seconds ticking by. “...Say, do you think they’ll come callin’ for an interview from his old man? I’m sure there’s a pretty penny in it for--”

Wayne slammed the receiver down. And then again. And again.

Al didn’t know. He didn’t know that about Eddie and the empty grave. He didn’t know--

The black lacquer of an acoustic guitar caught his eye, leaned against the door like it had been set down but for a moment, it’s owner just around the corner.

He picked the instrument up with trembling hands. Eddie had fixed the old girl up, restringing her and polishing her until she gleamed. Wayne may have had her first, but she only really belonged to Eddie.

Callous fingers plucked at the strings, plucking at an unsung song. Nothing would come, and soon his vision blurred and hands shook too much to hold the guitar any longer.

He set her down back into her gentle reverie, like a casket into the earth, and hung his head and cried.

[thecooleraveragejamm]

Happy valentines day @atthebell !!! As part of the @mcyt-valentines my gift to you is the valentines card cellbit would send to roier after finally getting that bear

Leaving the actual art under a readmore

also bagi is here, she joined in killing that bear and took the photos