it mattered because when my brother asked me what if this is the happiest you'll ever be? the best you'll ever get? the thing i felt was fear, not peace. everybody thought you were so perfect for me. even i thought you were "helping me grow". i had to challenge every internal clock. make myself more thoughtful, more kind, more beautiful.
i told my therapist it was good because i like the changes i made and there's something so strong about saying i did that. the problem is that i can like the difference all i want, but i changed for you. something akin to getting your name tattooed, all my progress is stamped with fuck you.
it was the happiest i'd ever been and also the best i'd ever gotten. i would still get in the car and think what the fuck just happened.
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Finished the Royal Centibytes, in both pre- and post-conversion flavors!
I thought court jesters would be a fun change of pace from king/queen or prince/princess- there's a precedent for royals to occasionally be things like heralds and war(?)horses, and I wanted to make a royalgirl who isn't a princess, noblewoman, or queen. I got to learn a little about some historical female court jesters while looking for references, which was cool!
I agonized for a while over whether I should put eyelashes on the one that I arbitrarily assigned 'Royalgirl', but ended up deciding that they look cute.
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here is Half of the little character animation im working on for tim, thinking i will try to colour it and stuff as well so this may take a liiittle while
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A lonely moment, away from the party.
What is she thinking of, I wonder?
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Please do not use or re-post my artwork without my permission. Thank you! (reblogs, however, are welcome and appreciated)
I do not own Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir, nor it’s characters. All rights to their owners.
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Tease Tidbit Tuesday 💌
The writing beans are slowly returning and so here's a snippet from a fic under the working title buck loves tommy, which I wrote a loose 2k for so far and is about halfway drafted.
Buck was leaning against the edge of the kitchen counter, watching as Tommy rinsed their dishes — something that he insisted on doing, since Buck made dinner for them and though he tried to tell him to leave it, apparently when it came to Tommy, Buck just couldn’t quite say no.
So now here he was, sipping on his beer and staring at Tommy’s shiny wet forearms where his sleeves were rolled up and watched as the old scars running around them shifted ever so slightly with every flex of his muscles. It was a good look on him (to be fair, every look was a good look on him, in Buck’s opinion).
And Buck was trying his best to listen to what Tommy was talking about, he was, but he felt preoccupied as of late; his mind was filled with this low murmur that was only getting louder and louder when Tommy was around.
He hasn’t felt like this in years, the last time… well, the last time was the first time, actually. He was in a handful of relationships since Abby, but nothing felt quite as strong — and Buck thought it was probably the charm of the firsts or his clinginess being amplified by being left behind, but the elation of just being close to someone, to just be able to hear their voice and look at their smile; they were all coming back to him now that he was with Tommy.
✨I have been tagged by and am tagging the ever so lovely @tommykinards @spagheddiediaz @goforkinard @exhuastedpigeon @nmcggg @bidisasterevankinard @daffi-990 @diazsdimples @honestlydarkprincess @watchyourbuck @actualalligator @bucksbignaturals @thewolvesof1998 mwuahhh 💛
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