THY WILL BE DONE.

[karlottafreier]

colour studies for an upcoming comic project

https://karlottafreier.tumblr.com

[vhsmeme]

* things said meme

things you said over the phone

things you said with the tv on mute 

things you said when you were proud

things you said under your breath

things you said with sorrow between your fists

things you said when you were lost

things you said when our world began to crumble

things you said with too many days between us

things you didn’t say at all

things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear

things you said you’ll never forget

things you said with clammy hands 

things you said when fear cut deep

things you said while a fever stole your mind

things you said with rage between your teeth

things you were afraid to say

things you said when no one else was around

things you said when the sun was shining

things you said with blooming bruises and stinging cuts

things you said when we were safe

things you said without thinking

things you said that kept me grounded

things you said you loved about me

things you said you hated about me

things you said when you lied

things you said with scraped knees 

things you said with tears in your eyes

things you said while holding my hand 

things you said in the car

things you said under the stars

things you said at my grave

things you said at the kitchen table

things you said on the porch at 3 am

things you said in a gas station parking lot 

things you said in a hotel room

things you said in the waiting room

things you said while you stroked my hair

things you said that made me feel loved

things you said when i was crying

things you said while i cried in your arms 

things you said when you thought i was asleep

things you said in your sleep

things you said when you kissed me goodnight

things you said after a nightmare

things you said before death snatched you

things you said that i wish you hadn’t

things you said when it ended

things you said when you met my friends

things you said when we first met

things you said when they took me away

[elliottr-blog]

Visit Original Link

[singingrass-archive]

Thy will be done Here on this highway In every house and field I pray All the meekness yield Aided by want Among stranger people To disgrace so soon I’ve come Drift like sleep Into the Hotel Montana Lay low for Thy name’s sake El Matador, Louisiana

[be-happy-and-enjoy-the-life]

[sonfeci]

[singingrass-archive]

here's a quick reminder that job is one of my favourite characters and i'm in constant awe of your writing and it's just a pleasure to be able to read it / see job develop so thank you for just doing what you're doing ❤️

IDK why I deserve this but I realize now that I needed it 💖 you’ve always been so supportive of basically anything I throw your way and?? How fucking awesome and rare is that? I don’t have any words like I just woke up a couple of minutes ago but you’re the best and I love you and I love Xeno and thank you so much for this.

[singingrass-archive]

“Oh man --- that’s a good pick.”

He sees the boy’s finger lingering on minutely on Irving Stone’s Dear Theo before moving on down the shelf and can’t help himself --- the crooked smile on his lips part apologetic, part encouraging. “I mean, great read if you wanna ball your fuckin’ eyes out. Took me a while to get through ‘cause I had to keep takin’ breaks. Couldn’t take it all at once.”

@amaranthinepride / starter call.

[kylejthompson]

owl in attic film. abandoned house in oregon

[slk-t]

[singingrass-archive]

[gunthingarchive-blog]

alrighty! this place is turning into a multimuse for various reasons. while i tinker about with the theme and make small bios, know that the characters available on this blog will currently be:

wesley starks (formerly selfcoherence)

accidental interdimensional traveler

cynical, self-destructive nihilist

secular jew (raised religious)

gay as hell

probably hates you

interdimensionally dating levi bradley

probably doesn’t really hate you but is irritated because he’s hungry

kfir harel (formerly @shaldagim)

canadian born, israeli raised

elite combat idf veteran

oldschool zionist

has a bfa in animation

worked in animation for a while but being poor isn’t his thing

so he’s currently working private security in canada

don’t fuck with him

tanner howard (hell or high water canon)

proud texan & cowboy

ex-con (grand total 17 years in jail) (still very much a criminal)

has a temper

family is the most important thing (except when your father beats you, your brother and your mother and puts her in a fuckload of debt, so you kill him)

probably doesn’t trust you

will beat the shit out of you bc, well, he can

pre-film, obv

maybe leonard shelby if i feel like getting into writing him again!

[musicistheart-deactivated201901]

Visit Original Link

[singingrass-archive]

ghostofwho:

His eyes flick to Job’s face as he curses, Adam’s hand outstretched and frozen as his eyes quickly try to read Job’s expression for an answer to a question that keeps dying in his throat. But the pinched expression is just tension, anxiety and fear. Adam quickly rushes into Job’s space, as he rests a gentle hand on Job’s shoulder in the brief moments between Job’s stuttered explanations.

He takes the chance to wipe the white sweater against Job’s brow, spreading the blood out of his eye more than getting rid of it but easing his own tension at seeing the wound cut deep into the brow instead of something more vital. He can’t hear Job until seconds after he has spoken, everything in Adam concentrated on wiping the blood away that he almost has to return to his body, shoulders achingly tense and body shivering with a bloody sweater fisted in his hand. 

“W-we can-.” But Job answers himself and Adam feels like part of his body shifts, like he isn’t in the room at all, only his body is. He can’t help. He doesn’t know how to help. 

Then Job turns sad eyes and cheeks covered in tears towards him and Adam moves as Job’s words wash over him. His shoulders blades feel wound together as he scrambles to his half-packed bag, throws the sweater inside and zips it up, slipping it onto one shoulder and quickly turning and rushing back to Job, grabbing his hand confidently and moving towards the door.

He can do this. Stay with Job. But between confident heartbeats, he’s flickering gently, solid, able to hang on, but moments of opacity company a coil of cold in his chest.

As he follows Job swiftly out the door, he doesn’t remember the camera on the nightstand holding all the photos he took; some of tiny brown birds swarmed on the pile of seeds he’d set down for them, of plants splashed with different colours newly bloomed or just about to, of old shops with windows cluttered with secondhand items, clothes and figurines and some photos containing parts of him, blurred and spread across the film, but together could form his own shape. 

Memories he made himself that he forgets as the door clicks shut behind them.

This doesn’t feel like all the other times he’s run and though Job’s mind is too full of sheer panic and terror to realize it at this very moment, it is because this time lacks the burden of someone either trying to soothe him or unable to come with him, watching him leave in a rush while they stay behind. The reason his chest is swelling rather than filling with grief is because, for once, someone not only believes him, but trusts him blindly.

Some part of him wants to turn to Adam as they step out into the parking lot and put his arms around him and thank him and tell him he loves him. Part of him wants his companion to know that this has never happened before and that Job is unbelievably grateful. But a far larger part of him knows every second wasted is another second in which they are in grave danger, and the sentiment will have to be saved for another time.

Adam’s hand squeezes tightly in his, Job doesn’t notice the flickering. He’s half-blinded by tears and reckons that must be it. He’s quick to mount Faith, glancing back at Adam only minutely to make sure he situates himself behind him before turning on the engine and speeding off onto the highway.

                                                                      * * * * *

It isn’t until the sun hangs tall in the sky, the cooling wind beating over them the only thing to keep his skin of his bare torso from burning, that Job finally pulls up at a lone, dusty gas station by the side of the road. His throat is dry and bitter and his entire body is sore from having maintained the same position for the several hours they’ve been on the road (Job isn’t sure, exactly, just how much time it’s been -- but it’s been long enough). He brings Faith to a halt by the pumps and stills her engine, stiff as he finally releases the handles and sits upright. Pink and swollen eyes do not turn to look at Adam -- but he does give the back of his hands, wrapped around Job’s middle, a small pat before stepping off.

[nekromanteio]

Visit Original Link

Nick Cave | Come into my Sleep

[singingrass-archive]

roinnte:

She nods silently and walks out and around the barn to the spigot on the outside of the barn, snatching a bucket and water on the way. She sets the bucket under the tap and turns it on, then she heads up her tower, grabbing the dish soap from inside before heading down again. It’s when she’s halfway down the steps that she didn’t argue against doing what he said. She stomps down the rest of the steps. 

She’s often caught off guard by kind people. She’d rather people were mean to her so she knew where she stood with them. With kind people she complies to quickly and then spends the rest of the time waiting for the other shoe to drop. She justifies Job’s kindness with her having agreed to pay him as she adds the dish soap into the bucket, bringing it back into the barn and picking up a rag on the way.

“I’ll clean it from now on, you just show me how.” She makes to grab the phone as she sets the bucket between them.

“Just shine it down here... yeah, right there. Thanks.” Once Job is done directing her, he leans down, soaks the rag up in soap water, then leans back over the hood as he cleans dirt and mud off the carburetor -- all the while doing his best to make sure Best gets a good view of what he’s doing. He speaks over his shoulder but doesn’t turn to look at her again, wanting to make sure he does a good job.

“So how long’ve you been doin’ this?”

[sotick]

[singingrass-archive]

singingrass:

hear yee hear yee: i am starting a new day job tomorrow which means i’m not going to be as available on here for a while!!! i won’t be around to answer messages as frequently as i have been and though things are generally going to run on a queue i am still going to favor some threads over others. same goes for wes’ blog (though the activity there is a mess to begin with). please stay tuned as i figure my shit out!

eyup i’m pretty much getting my ass handed to me and i still have my big commission to work on this weekend. my apologies to people waiting for replies and/or starters -- hopefully i can find a few spare hours to do those sometime on saturday.