glass weights

Here’s an off the cuff colored doodle for a friend, of everyone’s favorite spiderbitch suffering a wardrobe malfunction on top of losing her phone, thus ensuring a good hour of struggling around her hefty bust just to pick it up.

Had to go canon for this one, I just realized that I have very few renditions of my favorite serkets as trolls, most of them done in humanstuck.

commissions remain open, as always, though I’ve been debating bumping up my prices as of late, I might push it up at least 10 bucks further as well as add colored sketchwork to the listing.

2

My hair is finally getting long. Stopped bleaching it and it came back to life! I’ve also been working out ✌🏻️💪🏻💦

Kind of embarrassed to share this since its nowhere near the Adonis-level perfection of fitblr, but I’m actually starting to see visible changes to my body other than losing some weight and slimming down a little. Its exciting and I’m feeling really proud.

time || merkel

description: in which time is his greatest enemy

warnings: violence, blood and injury, death, PAIN

notes: finally got around watching atomic blonde lmao. that’s what birthed this story. this is rather short, but i was wide awake at 2 am and in the mood to write something painful. 

Something was wrong. Terribly, horribly wrong. 

He could feel it wrench in his gut, sending an awful wave of nausea rushing through him. His bright eyes flickered about, searching every face that rushed past, hoping one of them was yours. 

But they were all bleak, sullen faces. None of them were bright or jubilant like yours was. This only worsened his anxiety, his chest tightening painfully. He could not face the fact that something might’ve happened to you. And he most certainly couldn’t stomach the thought of you lying dead somewhere. No, he would not believe it. 

But then there was a glimmer of life, a flood of knee buckling relief, for his eyes had finally landed on the prize: you. 

Keep reading

One Bad Decision

a small fic based off of this prompt submitted to the wonderful @taylor-tut! i had such an urge to write it when i saw it, so here it is. enjoy!


Lance was absolutely trashed.

When his buddy had said the fraternity on the edge of campus was having a little get together and a few beers, he had agreed to join them. What he hadn’t expected was for the frat house to be holding literally the biggest party since he started.

The music was shaking him to his core as the bass pounded and rattled the house, all fragile items having been removed from places where they could fall, as he stumbled through the crowd of people dancing and drinking.

Another shot was shoved towards him, and before he could process it the clear, burning liquid was flowing down his throat and warming his insides. “Hey, dude,” he calls over the music to his friend whom he had come with.

“I’m gon’ get goin’! Got work t'morrow at 10.” His voice came out slurred and barely recognizable to himself before he waved and stumbled out the front door, feet dragging down the stairs. His limbs felt heavy with alcohol.

In the back of his mind his conscience something told him to not drive, that it wasn’t safe, but the drunk devil overpowered that voice. Instead, he grabbed his keys from his pocket.

His vision was blurred and doubling from the sheer amount of alcohol in his bloodstream, hands shaking slightly as he struggles to slide the key into the lock of his shitty car.

After a few attempts the metal finally lined up and he slid it in, unlocking the car and hopping inside. He repeated the struggle once he sat inside the hunk of metal and tried to start it, finally managing to turn the car on after 10 minutes of failing miserably.

Smacking his lips, lids drooping a bit, he pulled out of the crowded driveway and down the busy street, doing his best to avoid the cars that lined the sides as he headed out onto the main road.

Humming gently he flicked on the radio, clicking onto his favorite station to listen to something as he headed back to his dorm. Bobbing his head a bit to the beat, he saw his phone brighten out of the corner of his eye.

Turning to the phone to read whatever message had popped up, he saw that a friend of his was telling him to make sure he got home safe. He merely nodded before turning back to the road– just as he ran the first red light.

Thankfully it was late and there was no one else at the intersection, he told himself quietly as he proceeded on to the next light. This time he slowed to a stop– or rather, slammed down on the brake, and watched other cars zip past.

As soon as his light turned green he sped off, feeling the wheel jerking a bit beneath his hands and causing the car to swerve as they moved along the road.

One second he was coming up to a third light, the next second there was a car in front of him.

Lance all but screamed as he yanked to a hard left and the car skidded across the pavement as he tried to avoid the other person in the intersection, the front of his car smashing into the rear side of theirs.

He saw debris flying as he was sent into the front window due to not wearing his seatbelt, feeling the glass crack beneath his weight before his body was thrown around the interior like a ragdoll while the car skidded again and began to flip rapidly.

He knew he must have been screaming as it happened, as glass dug into his skin and his head thudded against the roof over and over, but he couldn’t hear it. All he could register was the pain, the blood, and the second car incoming as his own finally landed upright.

The moments blurred together as a skid was heard from outside and this new victim slammed into the front of his already wrecked car. He felt his body fly forward while the wheels rolled back, watched himself crash through the broken front window and roll down the hood before landing onto the ground with a thud.

In the back of his mind he heard yells from the people that had gathered, distantly registered the sirens as they called the paramedics, and stared up at the stars in the sky that spun around him like the world was just moving without him.

His vision went red as blood seeped down his forehead, sticky in his hair, and into his eyes. Then everything went black.


Hunk groaned loudly as his movie night was interrupted by the phone, slowly removing himself from the couch where he sat with his housemates Shiro, Pidge, and Keith. He usually also shared it with Lance, but Lance had said something about going out and coming back late.

Quietly he grabbed the phone and paused the movie, much to the dismay of Pidge who had been very into it, and answered the phone. “Hello?… Yes, this is him.”

He felt eyes on him as he listened to the woman on the other end, feeling his stomach both drop and rise to his throat all at once before he slowly hung up and looked at them in horror. The words kept playing in his head, and he couldn’t help but echo them as he whispered out a response to their confused and worried expressions.

“It’s Lance. There’s been an accident.”