I’m gonna hold you forever The wind will never change on us Long as we stay with each other Then it will always be like this

i used to stick flowers in dye as a kid to make them different colors

every month i track down and kill a member of various professions so that i can absorb their workplace knowledge. last june i shredded a florist

Opening 1/2 emergency commissions slots

We’re having to deal with a lot of financial issues this month,  including being short of 900€ and my little brothers needing to go to important disability appointments.

Right now we need to pay for train tickets so my mother and siblings can live at my brother’s the time between two appointments , but train became super expensive lately. We need roughly 200€.

I already have a queue, that I’m working hard to reduce as quickly as I can, but if you’re ok with longer delays pls don’t hesitate to send me a message for your commission !

If you want to donate, I also have a k0-fi under the username “Themys” if you want to support me without commissioning me.

A reblog is always welcome to help, if you want to ❤

Opening 1/2 emergency commissions slots

We’re having to deal with a lot of financial issues this month,  including being short of 900€ and my little brothers needing to go to important disability appointments.

Right now we need to pay for train tickets so my mother and siblings can live at my brother’s the time between two appointments , but train became super expensive lately. We need roughly 200€.

I already have a queue, that I’m working hard to reduce as quickly as I can, but if you’re ok with longer delays pls don’t hesitate to send me a message for your commission !

If you want to donate, I also have a k0-fi under the username “Themys” if you want to support me without commissioning me.

A reblog is always welcome to help, if you want to ❤

Glorious Masquerade Rhythmic: Singing Malleus, Idia and Azul

Rollo shitpost + headcanon that Rook proudly calls those pains au chocolat "chocolatine"

have some more memes i collected like washed up seashells at the beach.

edit: I fixed Floyd's hair. No I don't know where the black strand went or why it was gone but it came home and is already rearing to squeeze everyone and anyone now that the real Floyd is back.

I’m not mutuals with many people but please repost.

silly clown

made in 2021, august

Emergency Commissions

Hi everyone ! My family and I ended up tighter than expected this month, as we decided to buy food complements we need (for me their relieve pain from chronic illness and long covid), and it took on our groceries budget.

Currently, my turn-up time is around 1-2 months as I’m working on the commissions I received in may ! 

I’m sorry for posting so much about my commissions, they’re my main source of income as I’m looking for jobs, but it’s harder than expected and algorythms aren’t kind with me. 

If you want to help, don’t hesitate to reblog and share ! Thanks in advance ! 

If you’re interested, here’s my process below :D

Keep reading

We had several big expenses to do (wood for winter, car repairs, and electricity bill adjustments…) so we’re in need of financial help! 

i got sick so I got some delays, but I’m doing my best to diminish my queue as much as I can to lower the wait time ! don’t hesitate to reblog and share, and check my ko-fi as well ^^ 

Emergency Commissions

Hi everyone ! My family and I ended up tighter than expected this month, as we decided to buy food complements we need (for me their relieve pain from chronic illness and long covid), and it took on our groceries budget.

Currently, my turn-up time is around 1-2 months as I’m working on the commissions I received in may ! 

I’m sorry for posting so much about my commissions, they’re my main source of income as I’m looking for jobs, but it’s harder than expected and algorythms aren’t kind with me. 

If you want to help, don’t hesitate to reblog and share ! Thanks in advance ! 

If you’re interested, here’s my process below :D

Keep reading

Old picture study of our favorite rat man. If unlovable, why cry pretty?

The first time Billy yells at their kid, and I mean really yells, is when they’re four years old. And look. Okay. Yes. Children are precious and don’t know any better and are just trying to navigate through a world that’s too big for them. That they’re not ready for. And it’s the adult’s job as a parent to guide them. To nurture them. To be the bigger, more mature person. He knows this. But something not enough people talk about is how no matter how much you love your kids, your issues you've carried all your life don’t magically disappear when they place that new born in your arms. That all the screaming clawing trauma of your own childhood follows behind you step for step like a shadow. And yeah. He’s gotten therapy. Pretty much had to after an interdimensional flesh octopus hole punched his chest like a good damn book report. And he’s been getting better. Really. But sometimes even though you love someone, you break anyway. Because parents are human. They boil over. Make mistakes. So when the cat knocks scalding hot coffee down his leg because some goddamn Mormons pressed the doorbell and fucking held it, making him jump up hitting his knee against the table and Billy’s gunna lose it because his son has been screaming for going on forty five minutes now about how much he doesn’t want to brush his teeth and Steve left his goddamn second alarm on AGAIN so Billy is running on less than three hours of sleep and that was the last of their coffee and those assholes are still holding down the damn door bell and-

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

He means it to include everyone but he’s looking at their little boy as he says it. Yells it. Roars. Like a monster.

Like him.

The doorbell stops ringing. The cat has scuttled away. The house is dead silent for all except the drip drip drip of coffee falling from the table to the floor in a growing puddle. Of the hushed little sniffles of a snotty nose.

Their little boy is looking at Billy like he’s never seen him before. Lamplight blue eyes wide and terrified. Cheeks puffy and red from crying, lower lip wobbly. But he doesn’t make a sound. Sits ramrod straight in the booster seat he’s been camping out on for over half and hour because if he brushes his teeth then it’ll make his mouth taste funny. He wants to taste his lucky charms a little longer. But they had to get to a dentist appointment in fifteen minutes and… And Billy put the fear of God into his four year old child over a fucking dentist appointment?

Billy takes a half step forward, hand reaching out to fix this, when the little boy finches. Breath hitching. Doesn’t say a word. Because… because Billy said so. Demanded it.

Respect and responsibility

Billy turns on his heel and bolts to the bathroom down the hall. Locks the door behind him then falls down to his knees so hard they crack against the tile, wretches into the toilet. Empties out the bacon and eggs and measly two sips of coffee he had this morning during breakfast with his son. And Jesus fuck he knew it. Knew he was no good. Steve was wrong and Billy should have never even considered the prospect of becoming a father. Steve is the one who’s good with kids. Patience so endless he carted six preteens around for three years till they were all old enough to get their own licence. Still does sometimes when they’re low on gas money. Because Steve is good. And Billy is Billy. Is mean and broken and fucked up and just like Neil. Always breaks things no matter how hard he tries. Sits there crouched down on the bathroom floor with his forehead against the toilet seat and cries. Ugly tears running down his cheeks to mix with the bile and spit on his chin.

It’s not till he calms down enough to take a few deep breaths that Billy realizes there’s a gentle pat pat pat of a tiny hand against the bathroom door. Sits up and swipes the back of his arm against his mouth and grimaces. Gets up and splashes cold water on his face. Washes his hands and takes a deep deep breath. Holds it. And lets it go.

When Billy opens the door, there stands his son, still dressed in his wonder woman footie pajamas Max got him for Christmas. He’s holding his favorite stuffed bear, looking up at his father with a hesitation Billy’s never seen in him before. It grinds the shattered pieces of his broken heart to dust.

Before Billy can say a single word the little boy shifts. Plants his feet. And God just that has all that broken heart dust blowing away on the breeze. Because Billy told himself he would never do this. Promised himself when the surrogate handed him the squirming blue bundle that was their child he would be better. Wasn’t gunna end up like his own father. And Billy wants to say something so bad but he can already feel more tears clogging up his throat. Doesn’t wanna cry in front of his kid. Losses the battle entirely when his little boy holds up his favorite bear to Billy. And he never lets anyone touch the ratty thing. Won’t even let Steve wash it so they have to stage a switcheroo Indiana Jones style while he’s napping just to put it through a quick cycle. Billy gets down to the kid's level and holds open his arms. Hopes to every God he’s never believed in that this is okay. His son rushes forward, little arms tight around Billy’s neck while Billy holds him.

I’m sorry I’m sorry I'm sorry

Later that evening, when appointments have been moved and multiple movies have been watched, Steve comes home from work to find his husband and child cuddled up on the couch, half way though watching Bambi and eating ice cream for dinner. They put their little boy to bed and Steve notices Billy’s face crumble a little when their son rushes off to go brush his teeth unprompted.

It’s only when they’ve kissed their son goodnight and gone down for the night themselves that Billy tells Steve what happened. And Steve gets it. Knows the things Billy has gone through. Knows how hard he tries. So he just holds his husband as he cries silently, wrapped around each other under the covers of their California king. Runs his fingertips up and down Billy’s back.

“I'm just like him”

Steve can’t stop himself from snorting.

“You’re really not”

Billy growls, all nasally from crying.

“How the fuck would you know Harrington?”

Steve rolls his eyes. Ever fond and exasperated in equal parts.

“It’s Hargrove now since I married your dumb ass. And I know you’re not your father because I know you.”

Billy scoffs. Steve is undeterred.

“Billy. Baby. Can you recall at any point in your life your dad apologizing to you? For like, anything? ”

Billy says nothing but Steve knows he heard. Knows the answer is no. Steve sighs, not for the last time cursing Neil Hargrove and his black shriveled heart.

“Our son knows you love him. So, you made a mistake. You’re human. You apologized. It’s gunna be okay.”

Billy holds Steve tighter. Whispers a ‘thank you’ into his chest.

In the morning, Steve buys more coffee.