“ He is a MYTHIC BITCH. ”

                “ Can’t believe Edd left me to draw dicks with a DICK. ”

i ‘m still crying over g/ravity falls 

colatastiic-deactivated20171207:

Emotions ran wild, the ability to control them grew harder and harder each passing day. Holding a positive outlook on himself was a struggle for Edd, both in his appearance and art and with the departure of his once Norwegian friend ( abrupt and contact completely cut ) only weighed the heaviness on his heart. Chest ached at the sheer thought of his old friend that no longer lived in the home he shared with a few others. The wounds fresh in his minds, Edd hid in his room, not wanting Matt or Tom to see him in a state of sorrow. Asking the same question every hour or fall apart under their watchful eyes.

Edd sat at his desk, inked fingers around the pen he used to sketch what he had been feeling that day. He pressed hard on the paper, indenting the notebook with the harsh pressure. He grew frustrated, unable to draw the image he had within his head onto the paper. It had been the third attempt, previous two tossed to his side in a small ball by his sneakers. No matter how many times he tried, he couldn’t find the right consistency he wanted the lines– The shape of the image wouldn’t come out. His mind a frazzled mess. In a fit of rage, Edd ripped several sheets of paper from its spiral hold and tossed it in the direction of his trashcan. By his doorframe. 

       Where Tom happened to stand and witness the event.

     ❝ Tom— ❞

He froze, caught red-handed under the deep, dark gaze of his alcoholic friend. The pencil in his fingers gripped tightly, thumb pressed against the plastic ball point pen he used for his previous piece. He could see the worry that lingered on Tom’s face, the sadness and struggle that painted his features when looking at Edd. He hadn’t realized just how messy his hair was and stained with specks of ink from the constant running of fingers through brown locks. The corners of his eyes stung, vision blurred, not realizing he had been on the verge of tears before Tom said two simple words : Don’t cry.

     ❝ ————-Tom. ❞

He broke. Emotions flooded over him in a single tidal wave, tears streamed down in small rivers down his round cheeks and onto the tan khakis. The hand which held his pen released its grip, the gray object hitting the floor, cushioned by the carpet beneath their feet. He didn’t want Tom to see him in this state : tired. Agitated. Upset. Fallen. A sleeved arm flew up, desperate to cover his flushed, tear-stained face and muffle the sobs that escaped his lips. He hated this. The awful feeling in his chest. The inability to properly say goodbye. Falling apart in front of Tom. Body shook as the tears continue to fall. He couldn’t stop. No matter how hard he tried Edd couldn’t stop the harsh sobbing. He couldn’t stop the painful memories that lingered in his thoughts. He couldn’t speak– The words caught in the back of his throat and replaced by a harsh deep of breath. 

Reality sunk in when arms wrapped around his hunched figure. A hand rested on the back of Edd’s head, fingers locking in his messy hair as Tom brought the artist’s face to his blue shoulder. The scent of liquor managed to sneak through his stuffed nose, the cotton fabrics absorbing Edd’s hot tear, relaxing him a smidgen. Tom. God, Tom. Without even knowing, Tom was able to calm the larger male by simply being there. In one swift motion, Edd wrapped his arms around the standing body. Fingers gripped at the heavy material like hooks, needing—wanting Tom to stay close as he continued to cry in his comforting embrace.

                            Please don’t leave too.

1 0 0. i. l o v e. y o u. | always accepting.
@possessedtwice​

gcninja:

                                                  WHO DUN IT ? ? ?

art credit

cigarlips:

    Now, he sombered down a tad. Perhaps it was the lack of confrontation or how he felt Tom’s body twitch and recoil under his hand. Tord couldn’t even tell if he was angry or not. It was like treading on thin ice and while Tord was typically all for it with Tom, this felt different. Tom was supposed to be mad and fight him about making him say something repulsive and embarrassing like liking him. He was fine with that. Honest. It’s what he expected when he began pushing his buttons, anyways. His weirdly calm response was different, and inconspicuously, he felt his ears heat up. He hated that. All he needed to do was push Tom more. He would have to go into a fit sooner or later.

    He was still smiling a small, stupid smile of course, he was more than capable of doing that during a small anxious daydream. Tord barely even registered Tom’s words despite smiling calmly at him and clearly hearing him. Face shifted into a gentle surprise, eyes perking up again with attention, and he could only hope Tom didn’t realize he was zoning out. Regardless, his comment was surprising in itself. Tord barely gave himself a chance to think about it. It was much better to give a generic retort to these things rather than ponder it, entertain it, just to give Tom a tease.

“Pff— Why would I ever wish for that, Jehovah’s Witness?” Tord didn’t appear to enjoy himself any, his small smile remaining stagnant as he prodded an obnoxious finger to Tom’s cheek. “No one would wish for that.”

             He could feel it. The sudden awkward atmosphere that surrounded them that pretty much hugged them and was whispering a hint that things would only get worse. Tord was known for trying to constantly tick him off, doing it continuously until he would chase the commie around the house shouting for him to shut up. But this time, it didn’t feel like that was his main goal. There wasn’t any intense vibe that was coming off of Tord, but rather like he was in an anxious state of mind. Maybe he was, but why would he be ? It was just Tom. Tom. The man who simply drank his problems away someone not to be thought of as a threat. 

His gaze was fixated on Tord’s movements, studying them carefully until something out of the ordinary stuck out to him. Heck everything that he was doing stuck out to him. The simple smile that remained on his features, the blank face that stood as he spoke. It wasn’t him. Or maybe it was him just an anxious version of him. By now Tom was no longer focused on thinking of a snarky come back to the rude one that was tossed at him; now he’s more focused as to what’s got this commie in such a tense form.

“ Um yeah. I guess no one ??? ” His head was tilt to the side a bit, still observing the movements intently. Breathing was normal on his side but for Tord it almost looked like he was holding his for dear life. This silence hanged between them for several moments before Tom would shrug his shoulders lazily putting on the visage that everything was normal. He did this up until he lifted his head to face him once more, wearing a seriously concerned expression. 

“ What the hell is wrong with you ? ”

cigarlips:

        “Really??? It’s really easy just, put your hand in mine… and you win!” He can’t believe he has to be so stubborn! “Scaredy cat. It’s just hands.” He’s already tugging at Tom’s sleeve, prodding him. He’s very ready to fight for it now, Tom.

             Raising a brow, he makes an attempt to pull his arm away from him, even trying to nudge his hand. “ Why do you want to hold my hand so badly ? Is this your way of flirting with me ? ”

cigarlips:

      He honestly did try to catch the falling drunk, panic at the sudden movement even filled his eyes to the brim. It was a failure, of course. A painful, helpless failure, but Tom moved again, as if he barely even noticed. He was more than fine, instead more interested in some drunk philosophy reflecting his bottle. As if some scripture would appear. Not that he’d get to relax for even a moment, Tord was sure he’d take another sip, so he leaned forward with plans to snatch it before he could. Before he did, Tom laid down, right at— on his feet. Hugging protectively over his bottle.

      “And get stepped on by any midnight travelers? Not with my foot, you’re not.” Yeah, like Tord would let him sleep in the middle of the hallway. A hand on the wall, Tord carefully slipped his foot from under him. Tom would already be suffering from a headache anyways. No need to help with that. 

     He kneeled down to pick up Tom, sure, but first. A hand clamped around Tom’s hands that held the bottle close, the other tugged away the actual bottle. He’ll just have to take the bottle with them, rather than leave it to make a mess on a floor for later. The least he could do was make sure he didn’t drink more. “Come on, Tom. Bed time.” His free hand softly tugs at Tom’s arm, trying to lift him up just enough to slip his other arm around his back and prop him into his chest. All was needed was to lift him up and the drunk would be securely in his arms.

               There’s no point in trying. He had made up his mind to spend the night in the hallway, and that was that. But it was quite an easy struggle for the commie to take away the one thing that brought him happiness ( besides Susan ) he was moderately very drunk, couldn’t think straight. Or make good decisions. The actions that would follow after the removing of the feet pillows are, wouldn’t be an easy task for Tord. Instead of giving into the desire of sleep, he would make his body go numb. Besides, there have been many times where he has fallen asleep on the hallway floor, and too many times where Edd or and Matt has tripped over him. 

There was a sort of growling sound that hummed in his throat, a warning for him to give up on trying to the drunkard to bed. It would prove to be a useless task, he would be better off just leaving him there. Another groan would leave his throat feeling the arms wrap around him and Tord making a fatal attempt at trying to stand the drunk up. It was pointless. 

Without even worrying about what the other may do, he used up all the strength he had in him to bring both his body and Tord’s down to the floor. Stretching his body out and snuggling his body against his as if he was getting ready to fall asleep right then and there. “ Can’t we just sleep here —–TOGETHER ! It’ll be be fun ! ” Clearly he’s forgotten who he’s laying on top of.

why do artists always draw the g.rumps as is if they are tol and smol

colatastiic:

     ❝ I mean T– ❞

There it was– his name. A forbidden word among the three. He caught himself from saying it, caged in the back of his throat, restless to be released. He hated how that name made him feel; a venomous poison that sucked the joy out of him. The uncomfortable sensation it brought to his chest and the tightness in his throat that made it difficult to swallow his favorite caffeinated beverage. Thumbs rubbed along the aluminum can in hand, riding away cool dew that rolled down the red surface. He didn’t look at Tom. Couldn’t look at him. Didn’t want to see the look he’d give Edd.

     ❝ He had us all fooled and I just—- I can’t believe I didn’t see it. After all these years. ❞

              ^{While it was the answer he was expecting it was not the one he was hoping for. Discussing what they had went through from the past few days of Tord’s short lived adventures, it brought a heavy feeling to his stomach. The thought of leaving them alone with him over some little temper tantrum, he could have exposed him sooner without having destroyed their home. He found himself looking away from Edd once more, trying not to weigh anymore guilt onto himself.} 

“ ^{It’s not entirely your fault you know….Don’t blame this on yourself…} ” ^Please.