look at this totograph

mar, she/her, 31 ml sideblog of @marimbles tags: art || fics || posts old blog: @carpisuns-archive

[carpisuns]

respect the pouch! 🌸🐾

redraw (x)

[anna-scribbles]

thirteen update 📸👻📚📝

chapter 11: august

summary:

“Father…” Adrien said. The distance between them was eons wide, insurmountable. All of Adrien’s drive and confidence, his fighting spirit, evaporated in an instant. His hands shook. His mouth went dry. Silence crawled down his throat.

Adrien swallowed thickly. Somehow, he spoke.

“Can I go to school this year?”

excerpt:

Spectral light fades and the show's over, curtains drawn. Dusk sneaks in through the broken windows, filtering the wreckage in hazy, antiquated light. A marker of time passing on this endless day. Somewhere, there is a sun burning through the hours, skating across the sky. It seems as much a myth as ghosts and hauntings and houses that swallow you whole, but Adrien's judgment of reality is always worse in here. Ceilings so high they seem endless. Rooms so cold they freeze time. When he turns away from his mother's portrait, the atelier is deafeningly empty. It's hollowed out, more than usual.

The room is a shattered ribcage. Desks are splintered to bits. Couches gutted, stuffing spilling out. Mannequins lie contorted, faceless casualties of the battle Adrien never fought. The only wars he ever saw in this room were waged with icy stares and pursed lips. Volleys for connection shattered against an impenetrable wall of apathy. There is something—a dog or a child or a ghost, something—living just within Adrien's skin. There is some undergrown thing in him that shrinks and whines in this room.

It's the same part of him that wants. The part that doesn't let go. The part that playacts a goodbye hug with a memory. Get up, he wants to scold himself. This is it. There is no one coming to save you.

The room is a mess. The room belongs to Adrien. Or Adrien belongs to the room. Either way, it's his to deal with. There is no one coming.

Adrien gets to work.

read on ao3

[kiougyarts]

First time on tumblr, kinda nervous

[cheesyciro]

Goodnight I hate drawing

[cheesyakumas]

I applied this wig on a Parisian touristy cafe terrace and changed in the tiniest bathroom just to get an hour of photos with my dear friend @/miraculous.flocon before my train left Paris and I’m so grateful we did it 😭

[anna-scribbles]

thirteen update 📸👻📚📝

chapter 11: august

summary:

“Father…” Adrien said. The distance between them was eons wide, insurmountable. All of Adrien’s drive and confidence, his fighting spirit, evaporated in an instant. His hands shook. His mouth went dry. Silence crawled down his throat.

Adrien swallowed thickly. Somehow, he spoke.

“Can I go to school this year?”

excerpt:

Spectral light fades and the show's over, curtains drawn. Dusk sneaks in through the broken windows, filtering the wreckage in hazy, antiquated light. A marker of time passing on this endless day. Somewhere, there is a sun burning through the hours, skating across the sky. It seems as much a myth as ghosts and hauntings and houses that swallow you whole, but Adrien's judgment of reality is always worse in here. Ceilings so high they seem endless. Rooms so cold they freeze time. When he turns away from his mother's portrait, the atelier is deafeningly empty. It's hollowed out, more than usual.

The room is a shattered ribcage. Desks are splintered to bits. Couches gutted, stuffing spilling out. Mannequins lie contorted, faceless casualties of the battle Adrien never fought. The only wars he ever saw in this room were waged with icy stares and pursed lips. Volleys for connection shattered against an impenetrable wall of apathy. There is something—a dog or a child or a ghost, something—living just within Adrien's skin. There is some undergrown thing in him that shrinks and whines in this room.

It's the same part of him that wants. The part that doesn't let go. The part that playacts a goodbye hug with a memory. Get up, he wants to scold himself. This is it. There is no one coming to save you.

The room is a mess. The room belongs to Adrien. Or Adrien belongs to the room. Either way, it's his to deal with. There is no one coming.

Adrien gets to work.

read on ao3

[notannascribbles]

thirteen august fully drafted and sent to beta literally anything is possible🙏🙏🙏🙏

[pattiemayigen]

Almost too late for Marichat May🥲

[cutecipher]

its important for a woman to have machinations/schemes

[lc-holy]

Mind your heart, M'Lady!

[mrsterlingeverything]

I will do anything to be free

[longnuts]

Even escape?

[mrsterlingeverything]

I dont know. Can i do that

[lavb-b]

More marichat

They were my ride or die bro

Also a tiny update here, but I've been accepted to booth at Animangaki in August with my artist friends! So I'm just here busy making preparations as a first time boother hahah

Already got a good lineup of merch ready, save for a fewwww more things I want to make and debut :] these Chibis being one of them! Definitely will be stickers, will see if I'm willing to turn them into keychains.

My bad been real quiet here for a long time, will pop in to drop whatever doodles of whatever media that's wormed it's way into my brain lmaoo

[zakirahana]

Marichat!

Needed a lil break from my project so here's some Marichat! I wish we get to see more of this dynamic back when they're still just friends :').

[ceejles]

so it's marichat may??👀

[sidsinning]

Blorbos

[noblechaton]

it is funny how Adrien Agreste, costar of a French cartoon show made for 7 year olds, is one of the most lied to guys to ever exist

[noblechaton]

I don't think a single person he knows has ever told him the full truth about anything ever. he has no idea that he lives inside of a pressure cooker

[shirairo]

A little Cat and Mouse sketch till I warm up to the commission. :)