#that hurts;w;but i like it

[uma-marciana-from-mars]

Hey guys! My first post on this platform, I was super inspired by a fanfic that I've been following for a few months, so in a rare burst of creativity I decided to draw something. Drawing this was totally out of my comfort zone, I don't have much experience with digital art but I tried 🥹.

(The height of the characters represented does not match the reality of the anime 🫲👽)

Thank you for writing these fantastic stories @aconstantstateofbladerunner Keep it up✨

Fanfic name 👉 Naïve Melody by @aconstantstateofbladerunner

(i'm still learning english, please be nice :3)

Bye guys👋

Tchau Pessoal👋

[inkskinned]

she's singing in another room and my dog is asleep at my feet. my grandma asked me why i haven't found a man yet and i laughed. oh, you know. i like my house clean.

my girlfriend is also my man is also "my partner" if i'm in a professional setting. yesterday we went to a ren faire and a man mimed at me - you're together? and at my delighted nod, his baffled, you're gay? made me laugh. a woman with rainbow hair said i love the two of you together. you're both so beautiful it's absurd.

my dad introduced my partner as my "..... friend. or whatever" the other day. he knows we're dating. in the same way, i was never able to get my sister's husband to stop saying that's gay like it's 2008. he still uses the word fa***t, and my sister's defense of him has always been well, he's just kidding.

my lover and i dance to old music in a tiny kitchen. we judge new music together and take food critique very seriously. we watch love is blind before we fall asleep and agree that if they had a queer season, it would be bloody but also make for excellent tv. of fucking course queer people would know someone for only 2 weeks and agree to get married. what are you saying.

at a bar with friends, a man puts his hand on my wrist. got a boyfriend? and yes, i do have a boyfriend, she's amazing. i am texting her while i wander around a gas station named after geese. i am visiting a swing state for a wedding. in the candy aisle i overhear: she's actually like a lesbian it's disgusting. two teenage girls with packaged sandwiches in their hands, giggling. no literally, like. i'm not, like. okay with her being there while we're all, like, naked and changing.

my girlfriend and i tailgate, drink gin and cider out of cups. from the frat group beside us, a man corrects himself with one of his friends: bro, i mean, nonbinary entity, and it makes everyone around him laugh, myself included. he razzes his friend the same way i would have killed for at 19 years old - like nothing happened, he continues: you apply sunscreen like an alien. he does a little sassy (and fairly accurate) dance interpretation of the motion. his friend is laughing so hard they're crying.

i am lucky, i live in a safe neighborhood in a safe state. my masc passenger princess comes up from DC. i drive her for an hour to where all the leaves are a violent arrangement of color. we walk along the trails, letting autumn into our blood. in this part of the state, there's a lot of pickup trucks and trump signs. when we chastely kiss before getting into the car, i accidentally make eye contact with a woman holding her child's wrist. she looks disgusted. she looks fucking pissed.

two hours later my girl and i are eating dinner on a patio, soaking in the last warmth of new england sun before the chill of winter sets in. we are giggling and trying to talk through plastic vampire teeth. at another table, i see a young woman sit up straighter. i watch her watch us. she blushes and takes her partner's hand from across the table. shy, like the taste of evening has just become something deeper.

it's worth it for this moment, i think. my lover is still humming the same song she's been singing for four days straight and i don't want to kill her for it. her guitar is beside my bed. her toothbrush is in my bathroom. in a few moments i will make us lunch. we are lucky enough to have found each other. it is lucky enough to be in love.

[hinamie]

ik i've done like 5 panel redraws from 265 alone but this is the last one promise

[remxedmoon]

boo! old woman jumpscare

greyscale vers below!

[spoopdeedoop]

those guys again

[pcktknife]

zoroark pokedex entries

[matoitech]

blue but to the two hands mv bcuz i saw it and was like holy shit thats so blue.. he would do that he should have that. drawing him in his own racing gear consumed my mind. hes taking pics w some of his backup dancers afterwards

[2129888]

i'll reassure you as many times as you need

[rawbin-hsr]

OMGGG Your latest smut fic is so amazing!!! The smut is absolutely delicious! but....the angst is breaking my heart so...could you please write a continuation or part two where the reader confronts Aventurine's dark internal thoughts and comforts them? A fic where they actually get him to believe that they love him for real, where they tell him that he's not a monster and that he wasn't ruining them.

You've got it ! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

Aventurine x Reader

You treat Aventurine with more respect than he deserves. (Part 2)

Read part 1 here !

CW: dehumanisation (internal, thoughts Aventurine has of himself, referring to himself as a “monster”), lots of mentions of death, passively suicidal Aventurine, violent imagery (through metaphors, nobody is actually physically harmed), intrusive thoughts, Aventurine thinks kind of vicious things about you (refers to you as "stupid", "brainless", "naive" etc), cursing.

Lmk if there’s anything else I should warn about !!

Small note: Spoiler alert sorry, but you will not completely fix Aventurine in this fic. Making any real progress would take YEARS. The trauma he's gone through and his beliefs about his own humanity are EXTREMELY deep-seated, just one conversation would not be enough to make him truly believe he was loved. Super sorry since I'm sure that's not what you wanted (you specifically requested they "truly get him to believe that they love him for real", but this does still end on a hopeful note so I hope you won't be too disappointed (•ᴗ•,, ) )

Sometimes Aventurine gains enough clarity to remember where he stands. More importantly, he gains enough clarity to remember where you should stand. That is to say, as far away from him as possible. Unfortunately, you are never keen on doing that. 

In these moments of clarity, he distances himself. If you won’t do it, he has to. He needs to. He needs to even when he can feel the little pieces of him that you’ve managed to haphazardly glue together splinter into tiny shards again, even when it feels like every step away is a step walked on shattered glass. He can hardly be called a ‘person’ anyways, what does his suffering matter? He has already lost so many good things, why not add another loss to the tally?

He reads your texts, but he doesn’t respond. He hangs up on you the moment you call. By doing this, he makes sure you know he is alive. Both because he knows it would devastate you if you thought he died, but even more so to make sure you know he is intentionally ignoring you. He hopes at least some part of you hates him. He thinks part of him hates you.

But he can never stay away for long. Like a werewolf called by the full moon; like a vampire to blood; like a siren to a sailor. Thoughts of you always cloud his mind too much to do what is right. He reminds himself he will destroy you. He comes back anyways. He is too selfish not to. 

And you welcome him with open arms every time. Sure, sometimes you yell. Sometimes you berate him. Sometimes you cry. But he never does something beyond the bounds of what you’ll forgive, even though he tries to. You’re patient to a fault. Though he feels bad, he never takes it fully seriously, because you always hold him with so much sweetness, even when your words are filled with righteous anger and justified hurt. You always end it by reminding him that you love him. Something clenches in his chest; something that is not his heart, because he has none. He claims he is sorry, but you both know he will do this again. He always does. You know he will hurt you over and over, even if you don’t know the extent. You know he will test you, that he will ignore you, that he will cling to you and that he will taunt you. You don’t know he will drag his claws through you and tear you to ribbons; you don’t know he will sink his teeth into your neck and drink all your blood; you don’t know he will lure you to sea and drown you. You are never aware of the true danger you are in. 

Maybe that’s why you one day feel comfortable enough to corner the creature that has taken on the appearance of a lover. You sit down next to him in bed one evening after one of his many attempts to push you away, your expression grim. You look straight ahead, right into his dead eyes, unaware that a monster is towering over you. 

“We can’t go on like this,” you say. For one moment, the crushing relief and devastation threatens to consume him, and he’s not sure which of the feelings is stronger. For one moment he can’t breathe. 

He hacks our a laugh, his skin straining. Something is shifting beneath his flesh, something ugly and dangerous. He needs to leave and he needs to do it quickly. 

“You’re right, we can’t,” he agrees, his voice a lot more steady than he feels. He feels the urge to grab you and shake you until you pass out. He feels the urge to suck out your life force until your body is an empty husk. He feels the urge to slam your head into the bathroom sink in the next room over. He feels the urge to shoot himself in the head, because he does not want to do any of that. 

“I love you,” you say, unexpectedly. Or maybe it’s not unexpected. You always say such stupid, brainless things. (You say it with sweetness. The only sweetness he can offer in return is the sweetness of bacteria digesting rotting meat. Is the flesh his, or will it be yours?) He laughs again. 

“I thought we were breaking up,” he says. Smirking, as if it’s funny. (It isn’t.)

“No, we’re really not,” you say firmly. He snorts. 

“Maybe we should.”

You don’t answer. Instead, you come closer. 

Get away, he thinks. Run, you fucking idiot. 

You don’t have many flaws, but the ones you do have are insurmountably big. You are too forgiving, you are too kind, you are too selfless, you are too naive. You will kill yourself doing this one day. You will let him kill you.

Your arms wrap around him. He can’t help but relax. The thing lurking under his human disguise grows more restless. 

“I don’t hate you,” you say, unexpectedly. And this one really is unexpected, because what made you say that? Your arms squeeze around him tighter. “I thought I was being obvious enough about that, but you’re so bad at understanding it.”

The feeling he has is the same as the feeling he gets when he realises a deal is going awry. You are the highest risk stakes he has ever made a bet on: will he ruin you, or will you ruin him? What you could do to him is so much more serious than death. He knows that he is holding a losing hand. He doesn’t even know what he stands to win.

You kiss his neck. He shudders. 

“Why are you so scared of me?” you ask. 

Scared? He is not scared. What an outright laughable concept. Neither of you are scared, but if one of you was, it should be you, but you aren’t, for some reason.

“What gives you that idea?” he chuckles, but his voice is not as steady this time, and he can feel his smile slipping. (What is wrong with him? He doesn’t want to think about it. The answer is always ‘everything’.)

“Your hand is shaking.”

It is, but that is not because he is afraid. Fear is a human response, borne from the desire to live. It is instinctual. It means kicking and screaming, it means clawing your way out of hell for the chance to see another day, it means fighting for the life you don’t want to end. He cannot die, you see. Death cannot occur twice. Just because his body reacts, that does not necessarily mean he can truly fear any longer.

(Then again, maybe his reaction does not come from the thought of his death.)

“I’m not scared,” he says, and his voice sounds a lot weaker than he had expected. You pull him closer, cradling his head against the crook of your neck. His blood is pulsing too quickly.

“It would be okay if you were,” you murmur. “I know you don’t know how to be loved. That’s okay. I’ll teach you. You just have to let me.”

Squash. Slice. Tear.

Maybe you are the monster. He can feel your claws prying his chest open; he can feel your teeth dig into his flesh; he can feel something that is not air fill his lungs. The biggest difference between you and him is that he devours, while you give. You painfully shove something back into the cavity meant to contain his soul, you pump blood back into his system, and you fill whatever gaps are left in him with something that is first cold but quickly warms. 

(He realises, belatedly, that something is pumping inside his chest again. But it can’t be a heart, can it? He lost that so long ago.)

“I’ll kill you,” he manages through gritted teeth, claws digging into your shirt. It is not a threat. It is not a warning. It is just the truth.

“You think too much,” you admonish him. Your tone is as gentle as your words are cutting. “I wish you would trust me more. You’re so determined to ruin your own life, and I don’t like it.”

“That’s just how I am. Deal with it or leave.”

“I’ll deal with it, then.”

Like a werewolf called by the full moon; like a vampire to blood; like a siren to a sailor. He will destroy you. But you accept it. 

He has tried time and time again to push you away, but he is weak. So incorrigibly weak, and though your flaws are insurmountable, his are all-consuming. He is a monster in all the ways that matter. But you stubbornly will not leave despite that. 

(Maybe that makes him a little more willing to try to change his nature. Just a little. Just for you. If you will not leave anyways, maybe he could try to make his presence a little less torturous.)

“Just… please stop ignoring me,” you sigh, nuzzling into his hair. Tenderly, tenderly, tenderly, so tenderly it makes his skin crawl. Your claws are softly piercing into him and he is helpless, unable (unwilling) to fight back. “I can deal with everything else. I just hate it when you do that. I can’t keep going weeks without speaking to you. I know you have some kind of… weird ideas that I’d be better off without you, but that’s not true. I love you, and I love being around you. I can’t help you when you cut me off at every corner.”

Cut, slice, slash.

Something in him breaks. Something he knows cannot be salvaged. Something he knows you would not want to salvage. Something he is not sure if he wants to salvage either, now that it is broken anyways.

He breathes a shaky breath, his fingers — his fingers, not claws, not this time — digging into your back. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, and he does not feel the urge to bite down. Though his eyes feel wet, it would not be enough water to drown you. 

He knows your line of logic is wrong. He knows the fact remains unchanged: he is a monster of a man. He will ruin you. But maybe your presence sparks enough electricity to keep his heart pumping, just for a little while, and maybe he can wait until things actually start going downhill before he lets you go. Maybe he can remember how to be a human for a bit, maybe he can pretend he is. 

“I just… don’t want to do something I can’t take back,” he whispers. “Not with you. You’re the… the only good thing I have left. I don’t know what I’d do if I…”

“That’s sweet, but I’m not as weak as you think I am,” you reply. “I’ve held out this long, haven’t I? Put more faith in me.”

He smiles.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

---------------------------------------------------------

My inbox is open, feel free to send in asks or requests, I'd love to ramble about things <3 Also reblogs are EXTREMELY appreciated the final push I needed to finish this was from a very kind individual who reposted and analysed my writing I've been riding that high ever since they did that ily bro

[deoidesign]

Time and Time Again comes back tonight!

Thank you all for being so patient with me, I know it was a long hiatus.

My health was struggling, my arm was (is) hurting, and I decided it wasn't worth it. I'd rather be slow!

So thank you for giving me that grace, and I hope you'll be there with me for the rest of the series.

[silusvesuius]

testing out drawing maormer 🪸🐚🪸 and a nelvas 🧣📜🩷 i'll ramble about maormer a bit in the tags

[qtboni]

╰﹒ 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐒 !

PAIRING: Ooc!Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader

OVERVIEW: He lashes out on you + very dismissive over your efforts for him :((

C/W: Angst, no comfort (see p2 for comfort!), mentions of toxic behavior (bcz words), offensive languages, depictions of mental health struggles (anxiety, but js tiny amount). [ fanart credits : ave661 on tumblr ]

W/C: 1.1k bubs

Simon had been going through a lot lately, and you could tell it was taking a toll on him. He had been working overtime at work, and you could see the exhaustion in his eyes every time he came home.

You want to do something special for him, something to lift his spirits up.

The air was charged with anticipation as Simon stepped through the door, making you want to burst out of happiness.

You had been eagerly awaiting his arrival, eager to show him what you'd been working on all day. You had been so excited to do something special for him, and you had gone the extra mile to make this night perfect!

The air, still thick with tension, Simon walked through the hallway. He'd had a long, hard day at work, and the last thing he wanted was to deal with anything else.

Price had been nagging him more than usual on the mission. Simon was tired and just wanted to rest, but Price's constant barrage of questions and commands was starting to get on his nerves.

He tried his best to keep his cool, but he couldn't help feeling a little bit frustrated. Despite his best efforts, he managed to keep his emotions in check and focus on the task at hand.

After the mission was over, Simon was relieved to finally have a moment to himself. He just wanted to rest and have a good night, but there you were, being a nuisance to him.

You could see the weariness in his eyes, as if he were carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. He shrugged off your attempts to engage him, not wanting to deal with the small talk.

As Simon dropped his collection of his military wears in the near cabinet, you approached him, your heart still pounding with excitement.

"Simon," you said, your voice trembling and a cheeky smile forming on your lips. "I've been working on a special surprise for you all day. I made your favorite snacks, decorated the living room, and even picked out a movie I know you'll love! I just wanted to make tonight special."

Simon looked up at you, his expression unreadable. "What?" he asked, his tone sharp and exhaustion palpable in his voice.

Despite his attitude, you pushed forward, eager to show him the cozy living room setup you'd created.

"Ta da!" you exclaimed, gesturing to the cozy space. "I wanted to make our movie night extra special tonight, so I went all out."

You'd decorated it with fairy lights, set out the popcorn and drinks, and made sure the couch was nice and toasty with a mountain of blankets.

"I just wanted to do something special for you," you added, your voice light and upbeat.

Simon's expression fell. He looked at the setup as if it were an annoyance, and you felt your feelings going down the drain.

You tried to hide your disappointment though and put on a cheerful smile, but it was hard to hide the hurt in your eyes. "What's wrong?" you asked hesitantly.

Simon shook his head, and for the first time, you saw the signs of his stress and turmoil. His lips were thin, his brow furrowed, and you could tell that he was struggling just to keep it all together.

"I can't take on one more thing right now," he said, his voice rising with frustration. "I'm exhausted. I can't deal with this right now."

You felt a lump form in your throat as you realized the full extent of your mistake.

"I..."

Your heart sank.

You couldn't believe you hadn't realized how tired he looked, how haggard and stressed. You had been so caught up in your excitement that you had missed the signs, the signals that he couldn't take on any more.

You had been so eager to do something nice for him, and in doing so, you had only added to his burden.

A tense silence fell over the room, and you could feel the tension rising between you. You wanted to comfort him, to make things right, but you didn't know how.

"I'm sorry," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just wanted to do something nice for you."

As you stood there in silence, your heart racing and tears swimming in your eyes, he finally spoke.

"Well, don't," he snapped, his irritation evident in his tone. "I can take care of myself. And I didn't ask for any of these."

You watch as he points to the decorated living room. Your efforts. Your hopes of having a good night of movies with him.

You felt the tears spill over and course down your cheeks.

"I didn't mean to make things worse for you," you said, your voice trembling. "I just wanted to do something nice for you, to lift your spirits. I didn't realize..."

Simon sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"I appreciate the effort, really I do. It's just..." He trailed off, searching for the right words. "Can you just stop being a bother? I can't take on anything else right now. I'm already stretched so thin, and I can't..."

You felt your chest tighten at his words.

You had always known that Simon was a hard worker, but you had never truly appreciated the toll it took on him. You had always been there to support him, to lift him up when he was feeling low, and you had always assumed that he would do the same for you.

At that moment, you realized that you had been asking too much of him. You could see the exhaustion in his eyes and the slump of his shoulders.

The realization hit you like a punch to the gut.

Your voice barely above a whisper, you managed to say, "I... I understand. I shouldn't have pushed you like that."

You could feel the hurt in your chest, like a physical pain that made it hard to breathe.

“Stop being a bother.”

The tears were already falling down your face, and your heart ached with the weight of your mistakes. It was just a reminder of how much you loved him and how desperately you wanted to be with him.

Simon didn't utter another word, just nodded his head, but his silence spoke volumes. An oppressive and heavy sense of unease permeated the air, leaving no doubt that there was nothing else to be said.

You stood there, feeling numb and defeated as you watched him leave to the bedroom.

You had learned a difficult lesson that night, and one that you would never forget. The road to happiness was not always smooth, and sometimes, even the people we love the most can hurt us without meaning to.

Tears filled your eyes over and over again as you realized how much your effort was taken for granted.

In that moment, you didn't understand why he was being so cruel to you, especially when you had put so much thought into making him happy.

All you wanted was to see Simon smile.

A/N: okay.. well.. he was an ass.. HELP simon pookie why would u do this to us? :(( we even made you popcorns and and even bought you your favorite drinks :(( we had to even ask ur best bud soap what kind of movies you like :(( we did so much for you :(( but it's okay ig. . . as long as you can have your rest. . . and well. . . goodnight :((

lmk if you guys need a part 2 cuz i be crying in my sleep

EDIT! part 2 is posted !!

[hinamie]

just looking at these hand poses was enough to give me carpal tunnel and that's how u know they're prime megu material

[sergle]

I know that animation in big blockbuster films is like not ever supposed to look good anymore and whatever, like it's almost intentionally bad, but from an artistic standpoint, can you imagine how hard it would have slayed if they made the minecraft movie purely with pixel animation?

[d3rpydoods]

I saw like 2 posts of this ship and knew what i had to do

[suntails]

fallen