This Is So Interesting And Important Because It’s So Hard To Explain What It Feels Like To Disassociate,, 

axl has one fear

based on this tweet 

people have been masturbating to GNR for over 30yrs

some soft rose bros we all need in life

Your rose bros drawings give me life!!! They look so good

tysm dude! rose bros is great, here’s some more for you :)

Reblog if it's okay for anybody to message you if they're feeling lonely during self isolation. Let's get through this together!

⭐ You're so sweet and such a talented artist, you compliment me so much and like I died when you said that you wanted to do a drawing for my fic

I’m gonna cry omg aaaaa thank you so much

y’all!!!

oops i made an outfit meme. send a number/letter & character or two and i’ll do a few drawings

hi this applies to me too, with ‘dude’ ‘bro’ ‘bruh’ ‘man’

Since it’s Pride Month, I figure I’ll let people know I tend to use “dude” and “bruh” habitually and if it ever makes you uncomfortable in any way please let me know and I’ll wont use it around you! 

Hands, Water, A Reminder

Not me and self projecting again lmao. 

Warning for self worth issues.

It’s a suffocating feeling. Phantom hands wrap around your throat. They’re always there, a reminder.

Sometimes, the hold is loose. There, but very light, like a thought in the back of your mind that you can’t quite shake off. It needs you to know it’s still there, that it’ll never go away .

Sometimes, the grip is strong, thumbs pressing into your throat, difficult to breathe. Vision blurred and clouded over in this feeling.

And other times. . . The hands hold you down, a tight grip, shoving you down into the water. Breathing is impossible, coughing up air and replacing it with water.

The way you carry yourself, the way you walk and talk. Surface level observations scream that you’re proud of you, that you like you.

But they don’t see those hands, wrapped around your throat. They wouldn’t want to, anyway. It’s so much easier to take someone at their surface level, so much easier not to bother looking further, finding flaws, problems.

So you take it. Take their words and criticism, use it, solidify the image, the mask, you’ve created.

But the hands are still there. Constant reminders.

You can do better.

You fucked up.

You ruined everything again.

You’re not worth anything.

You can’t get shit right.

They tell you, you have talent, you’re skilled. But what does that do?

You still mess up.

You still know there’s so much better out there.

You’re not worth shit.

Every breath you take is a waste, every sip of water, every little resource you use to survive. It’s all a waste.

But you fear death, don’t you?

So with every time the hands drag you down, watch you cough and choke and fill your lungs with water, it still brings you back up. Resuscitates you.

You’ll forever continue drowning, you’ll forever be reminded of how little you’re worth. The water is in your lungs, forever.

me: *gets noticed by people i look up to*

me: :D

some doodles that have just sat there and stared at me until I post them