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#what to tag this
nordidia · 6 months
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when this posts, the queue has ran out!!
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thank you so much for being here with me on this little daily-art journey (LMAO). this was all the tmnt art ive drawn (and posted on twitter) since the rottmnt movie came out august 2022, and i'm so grateful for all the support i've gotten here on tumblr!
I STILL DRAW DONT WORRY!!
but of course from now on i will post art gradually whenever i draw, not daily!
throughout as the queue progressed i also put the art i drew in the queue, so the past few ones have been recent i know alot of you found comfort in the daily posting so im really sorry it had to end, i also enjoyed the daily feedback and seeing your happiness!
it feels a bit surreal in a way, i know it hasnt been that long but also it was about 3 months of daily posts which is a bit weird to just stop suddenly,,, but anyway!
art for me is hard alot of the time, my artstyle seems rly simple and not hard to do to others but for me i have very low wrist stamina and alot going on in my personal life currently so im unsure on just how often i will post. i hope you will respect this!!
i still draw, i will post it whenever its drawn! and my ask box will ofc be open and i will answer the asks i am able to/feel like/have anything to answer them with! so just you know nothing is necessarily ending, it just wont be daily! hehe!
thank you so much!! see you soon!!
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a-feller · 3 months
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Guys if u havent watched nukerman's 4 hour video essay on plagarism you need to now. (yes this is the one everyone is getting hyped about). If not for the content then at least for the funnies.
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the following is all from hbomb. Not the guy in the screenshots.
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I love this so much. I actually fell off my chair laughing.
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one-time-i-dreamt · 2 years
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One of my friends got circumcised and the skin that came off was laid out and vacuum sealed into a bookmark.
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mourninglamby · 2 years
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playlist cover for when ur delusional and want to pretend dsmp is a real show with a real soundtrack
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lavender-kills · 10 months
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cryptide-tr · 4 months
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She guilty on my gear till I xx
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sinners-if · 5 months
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I just love tall strong/buff and mean women.
that’s real, anon.
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lilcatastrophe · 6 months
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some messy little doodles I did to pass time on a flight today
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birgittesilverbae · 9 months
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the halo wants her back, comes out drenched and burning from Bea’s body, curled bright around the phthalo of her wounds, the seams in her body ripped wide by her own hands. she fought to the last second, blood in her mouth, choking on her last words as Lilith held her face, eyes frantic. asking her to stop, to come home.
trying everything, anything, bittersweet Lilith begging her. “Ava's waiting,” and other brutal bargains as Shannon stood trembling, catching the sad flash of Bea's irises, a canvas to hold the blue-flushed image of Lilith, holding her. a minute from mourning.
Bea's hands trying to rip the divinium out of her own guts but Shannon could hear some of it singing up next to her aorta, teasing the thick wall with a sharpened edge.
in the end she went silently, her head genuflecting to Lilith's chest, breath patterning the black buckles of her armor, straps that Bea had adjusted, had undone a thousand times.
and Shannon is left with the memory of Lilith's screams, rattling the stained glass windows, and how her fingers felt numb as she helped with the buckles on Lilith's armor. clumsy, thinking that her hands were not meant for this.
only one set of hands meant for undressing Lilith and they’re being dragged softly from inside a chest cavity by Mary, who doesn’t scream at all. her grief is soundless and wide and wild.
Shannon can hear that too, trapped in her lungs like a thunderclap.
but where is the lightning? all they’re left with is a thin glow rolling over blood, catching the drip, drip of Bea’s insides into the air. she had to stop, when the buckles hung undone, Mary sitting with Bea's hands unreprising in her upturned palms.
the tall, bleak, shattered shape of Lilith in the guttering candlelight, the halo shining so fierce, marring the blue with its curlicues of hot hunger.
and there in the shadow of her shoulders like wings Shannon saw Mary running her hands through Bea’s hair, catching gently in the knots like an old hairbrush still tucked into a drawer at cat’s cradle. like an old sweater still hanging in Bea's closet.
“we have to do this,” Shannon whispered, tipping Lilith's head high with her fingers. prints in blood on her chin, but she wouldn’t mind. none of them have ever minded the mess.
Lilith is always so slow to wipe the ash from her forehead at Easter, when Vincent dusts his thumb over the skin. they are all so close to effigy, all a fingerprint from death and Lilith wore it plain, clung to it, the me before you of her, stepping just ahead of Beatrice.
but this time Bea phased through her to accept the blow.
Shannon wonders how long she’ll leave that brush of blood beneath her lower lip and her mind answers easily, forever. you can’t wash a girl off your skin once she’s touched it.
she peeled Lilith's shirt up over her head, helping her first to lower Bea's body down onto the gurney, the cold metal Lilith softened hastily with her cloak. she slices at the back of her sports bra with a knife, and the nakedness is nothing. Mary can’t look away from Bea's sleeping face.
we said it would end like this, didn’t we? not in words, but in carrying her to bed after she fell asleep watching Return of the Jedi. in a thousand ways we carried her like a rehearsal, knowing she would sleep before we had a chance to rest.
the monk - who? they’d all forgotten him - lifted the brand, the halo. Shannon wrapped her arms around Lilith's waist, tipped her head down onto her shoulder and said, “don’t look.”
said, “you can bite me. i’ll heal.”
she ran her fingers once over the smooth skin of Lilith's back, here and there a spot of acne and god, she’s so small, ribs fluttering harsh against Shannon's forearms as the heat and the light grew closer.
Lilith screamed and bit her, blood washing through her teeth as she forced them into the meat of Shannon's shoulder. blood bubbling and running down Shannon's chest, pooling at her waistband and soaking her shirt against her stomach. the halo pressed hot against Lilith and her flesh burned, blisters rising and blackening and then, gasping, the halo drew back.
still shining, but red-tinged with stolen flesh.
she knew, then. how it sang to her, how it never stopped. she kissed Lilith's cheek. it was wet and she couldn’t speak at all except to whine, high and harsh, like the world had ended and left her barely scathed, burning like a slow candle while everyone else became ash in an instant.
she passed her over to Mary, roused by the screams, Bea's hands tucked tight to her chest, her eyelids bearing bloody lines where Mary's hands pressed them asleep.
watched Lilith curl into her, keening, and they stared at each other as Shannon took off armor, her shirt, shucked her bra over her head, baring the scars of her service. naked but for her wedding ring.
and then, the hot kiss of the halo, the sight of Beatrice with her head tilted slightly as though to watch. eyes closed and baptized once again in blood, in death. Mary watching her the way you watch your house burn down.
mary sits against the wall outside beatrice's room for a long, long time. shannon leaves the door open a crack, enough to let the light slip free, to illuminate the toes of mary's boots. the rest of her is left in shadow. 
the battered desk is still etched with the idle scrawls of decades of warrior nuns, the shutters still groan like a demon shriek when she cracks them open, the notch in the door jamb where they'd marked bea's height is fresh as the day it was carved the week after they'd returned from ronda, an echo and apology all wrapped in one knife swipe.
but she doesn't recognize half the titles on the bookshelf, where heavy latin tomes abut battered novels from the star wars legends series. the stacks of notes on the desk look to be in french and italian and german, only the latter with any sort of familiarity to her eyes. everywhere her eyes fall she sees a life she was only privy to in fits and starts for so long. so much time wasted in disagreement, in beatrice's vehement refusal to understand the reasons for her fall from grace. 
the halo chitters warningly against her spine and she sighs. "not your fault," she murmurs, the lie spilling blithely from her mouth. what else can there be to blame for the body once at motion now at rest, for the girl turned woman turned martyr whose boundless energy has gone to nothingness in the crypts beneath the convent. what else to blame but the relic that has left weeping scars in everyone it's ever touched.
what else to blame but the halo that had loved beatrice so fiercely that she'd died for it
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foxingten · 1 year
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I made a little elephant for our Valentine’s secret santa! (Secret cupid?) It only took a few hours and I filled it with rice! I can’t wait to make more!!!
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arsonistbunny · 10 months
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the struggle of not being good enough when what matters is expressing yourself
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redux-iterum · 1 year
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-flight, -step, and -fall
CROWFLIGHT, RAVENFLIGHT
Prerequisite Traits
Appearance: Pitch-black or predominantly black pelt with minimal white markings (tail-tip, paws, dash on chest or face).
Personality and/or Behavior: Intelligent, observant, and curious.
Additional Traits
Cats that qualify for this name might have keen memories suited for relaying complex details, making them excellent informants (as befitting the role held by Thlainra’s messengers). They might also have a voice that’s considered hoarse or grating; or, alternatively, have a voice that’s capable of a wide range of pitches (much like a crow’s vocal repertoire, which is highly mimetic). Sometimes, a cat with this name might be prone to interfering with others, usually out of a sense of mischief. Their playful nature tends to be subtle in that the observer (or intended victim) doesn’t see it coming until it’s too late. Although these cats belong to a greater “flock” (Clan), they prefer to socialize in smaller groups of two or three at a time. It’s been speculated (but not necessarily observed) that they demonstrate the capacity for limited tool-usage, similar to a crow cracking open a shell using a rock.
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BADGERSTEP
Prerequisite Traits
Appearance: [1] Gray tabby fur with darker stripes, [2] patched black and white fur, or [3] patched gray and white fur.
Personality and/or Behavior: Fastidiously clean, pragmatic, and lumbering.
Additional Traits
A common feature of cats with this name is their distinctive gait, which is typically heavy-footed or laborious. Although not a requirement, they tend to be skilled at digging, and have an intuitive knowledge of the ground beneath their feet (ie. making distinctions between the characteristics of sand, clay, and loam). Historically, WindClan tunnelers with this name were highly vaunted. Another aspect of these cats is their down-to-earth nature, which makes them relatively straightforward to communicate and work with. Their appearances are often well-groomed, and they tend to become distressed when their immediate surroundings are filthy and unorganized. The compulsion to rectify it is hard to ignore. 
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WILLOWFALL
Prerequisite Traits
Appearance: Light-gray fur that’s long and drooping.
Personality and/or Behavior: Tenacious, limber, and flexible.
Additional Traits
Cats bestowed this name are considered extremely mature at a young age, a nod to their namesake’s fast growth rate. These cats are also regarded by their community as a source of emotional comfort and shelter, similar to how a willow’s canopy is used as a refuge from torrential wind and rain. Despite what their long fur might imply, they aren’t opposed to getting wet feet, and actually enjoy being near bodies of water. While not necessarily a common trait, Willowfall cats are sometimes prone to being messy—whether it pertains to food, bedding, or tracking debris into camp from outside. It’s a quality likened to the catkins that willow trees shed in large quantities.
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To the anon that recently sent in that question about -flight/-step/-fall cats: I may or may not have already started working on a list like that. If you’re interested in swapping notes, feel free to hit me up!
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queenmeriadoc · 8 months
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So your fictional boyfriend is dead? Don't worry, here in delusion-ville they are ALIVE!
Congratulations, now you can get married and live happily ever after.
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one-time-i-dreamt · 2 years
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Japan was gonna make a Tarzan reboot and Misha Collins was the main actor. He came out as Vietnamese.
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insomniac-shado · 5 months
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My sky oc :33
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For once its not creepypasta GASP
thisll probably be the only non creep art post for another few months 💀
But yeaaa this is Lynnie :D
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rysttle · 1 year
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Bloopers??
Just some things, screenshots, dicord convos, etc relating to Theo Wrong Way Home (as dubbed by @beholding-moth, and also tagged as such) comic I’d like to keep for personal fun
Here’s what I have so far
Elly’s Apple saga
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This one specific tag :
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And then every body else’s :
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One braincell moment
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