26yo, Brazilian. Back to this site after years, still getting the hang of it and feeling old. (I multiship; It may not be of your liking.) She/Her đ©·đđ©”
392 posts
Latest Posts by ighostmyself - Page 2
My official designs for my ghost riderAU. The designs are pretty cannon with a few things I liked personally. I promise Iâll have more pages out soon! Coloring has just been a nightmaređ
Commissions are also open!!
i just wish the frightening ghoul would say something. for once. the silence is more disconcerting than anything it might say
"Bleed the Sky"
The sky bursts open,
not gently,
not softly,
but like a body breaking,
like something holding on for too long
finally letting go.
The first drop hitsâ
hot asphalt hisses,
dust rises like ghosts startled awake,
and the earth opens her mouth
like sheâs starving.
Thereâs no beauty here.
No poetry.
Just the raw writhing of water finding cracks,
finding hunger,
finding every place that aches or crumbles or waits.
The rain doesnât ask permission.
It doesnât care where it fallsâ
forest, rooftop, desert, skin.
It pounds against leaves as if to punish them
for turning their faces away,
fills the throats of rivers
until they choke on their own rushing,
slides down windowpanes like tears
too heavy to hold back.
And it keeps going.
There is no tenderness in this.
This is not about grace.
This is about gravity and surrender,
the weight of billions of tiny impacts
stripping the world bare.
And something in you loosensâ
against your will,
unraveling in the rhythm,
in the relentless pounding that reminds you of your own breaking,
of the times you couldnât stop falling.
You stand there,
letting it hit you,
letting it drench everything you thought was safe.
Maybe this is what healing feels like:
not silent, not soft,
not clean.
But messy.
Wet hands in the dirt,
skin soaked,
blurry vision as everything spills.
The rain knows.
It always knows.
It comes to destroy,
and in the destruction
it leaves something you didnât know you wereâ
raw, gasping,
and growing.
Our roomba (Dracula) gets his eyes caught on things so husband has removed them while he vacuums. Iâm really uncomfortable watching Dracula bumble into stuff with tape patches marking his eyeless sockets while he cleans our house for free. I hate that Husband returns his eyes when heâs finished, accidentally reinforcing a sort of âeyes are for good little workersâ message.
I need to glue the styrofoam eyes on better so Dracula can have them all the time. And maybe Iâll feed him a handful of sand just for him as a thank you for all his hard work.
dick and tim teasing damian my beloved
lovely character. i need him to finally break down sobbing clutching his chest like it'll stop the pain crumpling to the floor begging God to either help him or let him die
"ohh my god you can't just-"
Am I yours to command? Does the collar 'round my neck have your name on it? I kneel to no king nor god, and I see no crown on you.
dating a princessgirl is great until she exercises unilateral authority to keep snuggling you instead of letting you get up
Obsessed with the fact that the spideypool dynamic can be watered down to âmiss you pookie bearâ âoh lordâ mindset
I made this in like 3 seconds do you like it
Only two ADHD tasks
1) this task will take me five minutes but I couldnât possibly do it because I have an appointment in six hour a
2) this task will take five hours but Iâll just do it first thing in the morning before I leave
red blood cell girl bringing you oxygen on a cute little platter and then curtseying
"came back wrong" what about Came Back Afraid. You used to be brave. Too brave maybe, defying the odds at every turn, a fighter, cocky, playing with fire, first to throw yourself at the enemy. Until one day it all caught up to you. You came back, somehow, but now you know all too intimately how it feels to lose, to die, to be destroyed. Now you flinch and freeze and cower at the slightest provocation. Who even are you now if you can't be brave? The grave may have let you go, but the mortal fear still grips you tighter than ever.
We never really talked about it but The Ugly Ducking that grew up to be a beautiful swan was still probably pretty fugly from a duckâs perspective
jason: why are you looking at me like that?
damian, age 4, wondering why jason looks white if he's his brother: you're colored wrong
jason: what the fuck?
Who put em in that box? Smh. Peter punched a whole through the metal in the next panel for sure. Or maybe punched Wade. Or maybe both.
Never drew two guys in a box before⊠itâs really hard guys. I tried my bestđ
âyou should be the bigger personâ absolutely not. iâm cursing his entire bloodline.