Pierrot!!
i don't do bad sauce passes
Keni
Peter Solarz
Stranger Things
KIROKAZE
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Today's Document

No title available
Game of Thrones Daily

Kaledo Art
Three Goblin Art
art blog(derogatory)
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
taylor price

No title available
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
noise dept.
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
ojovivo
Monterey Bay Aquarium

seen from South Korea

seen from Germany
seen from Germany

seen from Kazakhstan

seen from T1

seen from Kazakhstan

seen from Malaysia
seen from United Kingdom

seen from Japan
seen from United States

seen from South Korea

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from Canada
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from South Africa

seen from T1
seen from United States
seen from Indonesia
@dtarouviper
Pierrot!!
Day off🏙️
The freak circus comic
Jhin doodle
♥️⭐“Why?? Hah... because I love you, my dear!! ”
(+white bg under the cut)
May I love you forever?
Want me to love you in moderation...? ... Do I look 'moderate' to you?
Had to lock in and finish at least one proper drawing before focusing on moving. Been super into The Freak Circus. Voila!
At some of the quiet times of night I sit submerged in the pond of our love.
Slight drops of running water fall making a tap tap noise. Tap, on a leaf. Tap on another and then into the pond.
I sit in the comfortable temperature of star-filled blackness and my brain absorbs water ripples with echoes of your voice.
But the voice is never loud, it does not scream. It never demands.
My hands get tangled around underwater ivy and roots that never scrag.
There was a time when I was smaller and more starry-eyed. A time where I believed there was a day to celebrate that I was born myself. Little candles lit up and a mind full of desires. And every time I blew I never knew I was hoping for you.
One star, two stars, three stars counting the time for me to find the night sky beautiful and vast inside your eyes.
For stars, five stars and a pond that we bathed our bodies in and let our roots grow entangled.
Six and seven, and the house we built. Cozy, warm and lit. Where there's enough walls to paint in all our favorite colors. And time to sit after dinner to settle down when our stories crashed.
Bedtime stories about our wanderings, and tight hugs so we always feel each other, even if we can't see in the dark.
🌱 the peacemaker spirit 🌱
the auction takes place here 🍃
Sinful Shores Brand, Hwei & Prestige LeBlanc Splash Art
Repaint of an older drawing (just fixed some stuff)
One thing I've realised: I don't have to achieve something extraordinary in order to deserve my place in this life. I'm allowed to live quietly. I'm allowed to enjoy small hobbies and simple things. I'm allowed to work a job that simply pays the bills. I'm allowed to exist without constantly chasing something bigger. I don't have to compare myself and hold myself to an unreasonable standard all the time. Sometimes I can simply be. And still have worth. And still have every right to be here.
Art by: tkjn821
Morning comes quietly for Levi. No urgency, just pale light slipping through the curtains. He’s already awake. Old habits don’t fade, they just soften.
The kettle hums as he prepares for the day, movements precise, almost ritualistic. A few familiar faces drift in. He serves them without small talk, but they don’t seem to mind. There’s comfort in the consistency.
Later, when the shop is empty, he likes to spend his free time reading. His gaze lingers on the page longer than it used to, no scanning for threats, no tension in his shoulders. Just words, and the distant sounds of a town learning how to live again.
In the afternoon, he closes early and steps outside. There’s always something to fix. Wood to carry, walls to patch, hands to lend. He works quietly alongside others, not as a soldier, just another person rebuilding what’s left.
By evening, he’s back in the shop, wiping down already clean surfaces out of habit. When everything is in order, he pours himself a final cup of tea and sits in the stillness.
No battles. No commands. Just the quiet rhythm of a life that somehow kept going.