!!!!! IT'S HIS BIRTHDAY!!!!
i have had art block for SOSO long but i FORCED MYSELF to draw him for today 😡😡 just silly low effort doodles but 🫶🫶 theyre kinda scuffed 😭
and that's the end of this sketchbook.. BUT I HAVE A BIGGER ONE TO START MWAHAHAHA
alternative lighting under the cut bcs i couldn't decide which looked nicer •^•
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More headcanons cuz I am ignoring actual canon for the time being :D (pt 6)
Acne edition! Cuz I don't think pirates would have consistent face washing procedures and stuff!
Gillion doesn't get acne, just cuz his pores clear everything out so fast with how much he sweats
It is however very uncommon to see anyone on the ships besides the Tritons without acne of some kind
They don't really have proper places set up to wash faces and even then the only ones who really would are Jay, Marshal John, and Caspian
There used to be a bowl on the Albatros that they would use but it got moved to the kitchen when Old Man Earl was on the boat and no one moves it back yet
Chip just wouldn't cuz he thinks it's a waste of time and resources. Ollie wouldn't cuz he's following Chip's footsteps
Jay just got so used to doing it at her old home that she did it at least 3 times a week (which is a lot for pirates). She hasn't done it a whole lot lately tho and everytime she doesn't she feels a sense of satisfaction cuz she doesn't have to look perfect and presentable at every moment anymore
Marshal John "washes" his face by slashing ocean water on it when he gets too hot/sweaty
Lizzie has the same view as Chip
Chip mainly gets pimples on his temples and forehead cuz the bandana keeps the sweat, dirt, and gunk trapped against his skin
Jay will get it mainly on her cheeks, arms, and back
The ones on her arms mainly just seem like little bumps, mainly on her upper arm/bicep area
Ollie gets a lot cuz he's puberty :( (puberty by belothed </3 [though little happy cuz deeper voice heehee])
He gets them a lot on his face, mainly on his chin, nose, and cheeks
Marshall John will get acne on his back a lot, along with his forehead
Lizzie will get it a lot on her cheeks and legs, specifically around/under the rim of her eye patch cuz she doesn't really clean under there :(
She will sometimes just swipe a wet rag around it when she gets a bad hurty one
Yes, this was me lowkey projecting cuz I am breaking out but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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We’re trying this for real this time. hopefully without the computer yeeting my post into the abyss before I’m finished. Idk what I wrote in my little spiel in the og post before it died but I know I said something along the lines of starting to actually practice writing/journaling a little bit and wanting to improve, and being kinda proud of some bullshit I whipped up the other night when I couldn’t sleep so. Without further ado, some thoughts on my brother’s bedroom window:
I wish my window was like my brother’s, placed above the roof over our porch. A turn of a latch, a slide of the glass, and a push of the screen, and he could sit on rough tiles under the night sky. His is the only window like that in our home.
I wish my window was like my brother’s. I’d clamber up to the peak of our rooftop, the tiles scaping my hands and knees and pulling out little red drops as I crawl and climb and finally settle. I’d lay on my back, face towards the stars; I’d reach. My palm scraped, bloodied, raw, turned to the heavens in a silent question, asking–begging, pleading–to be taken away. Not forever. Just for a moment. Just for a day. Just for a chance to look down upon the Earth and witness life as the stars do.
I’d drop my hand. It would settle on my stomach, on top of the other. My ankles would be crossed. My head would be back. My mind would be quiet. My eyes would trace the few constellations I know and could see, until they slip closed. And then, I would sleep.
I wish my window was like my brother’s, so that I could feel a moment of peace. Perhaps it’s good thing that window is his. If it were mine–if the gateway to the moon and the stars and the endless sky were mine–I may never return to Earth.
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oughhh ..... waking up in the middle of the night or just a little too early and your f/o groggily tugging you back into place with some little half-coherent words of encouragement. call them selfish, but they'll take the label with no complaint if it means they get to have you lie down at their side just a while longer. the tired little motions they go through to try and make sure that you're able to fall back asleep before they let themself do the same, whether that be tracing shapes along your skin in gentle little gestures or even humming, they're putting the effort in even though sleep might be clinging onto them like a 2 ton weight.
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my little sun
[id: it’s a drawing of Obi Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker pre Geonosis. Obi Wan—who is depicted as an Asian man with pale skin and black hair that is styled in his signature mullet—is the main focus of the drawing as Anakin’s—who is depicted as Black with brown skin and shoulder length locs—back is facing the viewer and his form is blurred. Though Obi Wan is the focus, he is gazing fondly at Anakin; he looks at him as if he had hung the stars in the sky. /end id]
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aziraphale, the one who gave the first human exiles his flaming sword as both a source of protection and warmth, who did not look on them as sinners deserving of destruction but people entitled to the best chances possible, has never once looked at crowley, a heavenly exile, with anything other than compassion and a desire to protect. from their first meeting, he never wanted anything bad to happen to him. when crowley slithers up to him in eden, he treats him like an equal rather than an adversary. when crowley appears, his eyes fill with love and excitement, his gaze turns soft and hesitant, his whole body seizes with joy of seeing him. crowley might typically the one to seek him out, but aziraphale has always welcomed him home.
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