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[OVER!] Free Art Raffle :: Winners Chosen!!Update3::
For Jocyhope, and Rahze8.
Curuchii, pls note me if you still want the free art.
Update2:: TYSVM for all those who participated! Waaay more than i thought [130ppl!], makes me so very happy! ; u;
Annnd now the 3 lucky winners of this raffle aaaaare (proof),
#62! :iconJocyhope: / #85! :iconCuruchii: / #59! :iconRahze8:
Pls note me with the character[s] and style you want me to draw for you guys~ And
congrats on winning!!! 8) I will try and do more this type of things in future hurhurrr~
Update1:: Tysm to everyone who entered! I will pick the winners sometimes tomorrow, too tired atm ; n;
Itll be the end of another semester, will be on break
for a few weeks, therefore thought i do a raffle.
► There will be 3 winners! ◄
1x Color Headshot
2D x Reader - I Don't Care
There you were, snuggled up to your boyfriend, underneath the 'plastic tree' - as he would call it. His arm was slung around you as the sun was setting in the distance. It was quite a beautiful sight.
"Hey 2D," You whispered, looking up at him, "you don't hate me, do you?"
2D blinked. "What're ya talkin' about? Why would I hate ya?"
You frowned. "Well, today, when I met your band mates... I got along with Noodle and Russel, but Murdoc didn't seem to like me very much. He's your best friend, so I thought you might..."
"Aw, c'mon," 2D said with a chuckle, "ya don't think I would hate ya for something' as silly as that, do ya?"
You simply shrugged.
"Mudz is always grumpy, that's all," He replied, "and besides, I love ya no matter what anybody else thinks."
"Okay..." You muttered. You snuggled closer to him as it began to get darker. "I love you, too..."
2D smiled and pulled you closer to land a kiss on your forehead. Your eyes slowly shut as you fell asleep on your boyfriend's shoulder.
To depression, for creating days without endWake up to the realization that you've been awake
for seconds, minutes, hours.
You've been awake in this warm, dark room
and you don't know how long it's been
but now you're conscious
and it starts again--
the pain, strong and steady, in your chest.
You gain consciousness in this too warm morning
and your thoughts whir in endless loops
because it's either that or face the weight in your chest.
Light breaks though the window, soft and unwelcome
but you take it as a reluctant gift--
a new distraction from the feelings awake in your chest.
Awake, but not conscious.
So you think yourself in circles a little while longer
waiting for those quiet pains
(the constant reminder)
to gain consciousness.
IowaIf you visit Iowa,
you'll call her fields empty,
but she wasn't born that way.
A part of her was carved out
when she was ripped between Virginia
and the purple mountains of New Mexico.
Her gold hair, she tore it out when she realized
it didn't make her a princess.
She laid her locks strung along every road
leading somewhere else.
White hairs on her cheeks
are scars from winter.
Her hair darkens with the dampness
of summer rains.
The storms are never silent,
but neither is life when there's a tear
in your childhood where
a parent ought to be.
I've been flooded by Iowa's sorrow.
The only way I can distract her from her own voided landscape
is if I hate myself harder than she cries.
She just wants to fly
and I want to bus or train,
not because I fear death, but because
I want to take living slow.
It's the only way I ever feel.
From the air it's hard to watch Earth's hips move.
But Earth can't compare to the country.
That's my girl.
Full grown even when harvesting season's j
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