Christian Gosling

I got lazy 🥲 Also Idk about this ngl…

Evil

I turned them into geometrical shapes.

a group of men are sitting around a table with one of them saying one of us ! ALT: a group of men are sitting around a table with one of them saying one of us !

Mine is King Cobra Patronus. 😩
And yes Slytherin is the best Idc.

The real questions are which wand, house and Patronus do you have.

When life gives you lemons-

Why would life give me lemons. It barely gives me the will to live.

nom @retchout.bsky.social #warframefanart #warframe

僅帶著一些執念。。。一些我已經好累的執念。我還能繼續畫嗎。

Boi.

I forgot to draw his other leg. 🥲

Ignore the werewolf Romeo for now.

Imp P

😟

Korkut did. 😇

Bro took it to heart. 💀

😔🙏🏼 Sorry not sorry.

The text goes hard.

I’m late to the party. 💀 Happy Halloween. 😔🙏🏼

kermit the frog is standing in front of a red curtain and making a funny face . ALT: kermit the frog is standing in front of a red curtain and making a funny face .

I LOVE YOUR ART SO MUCH.

Camille.

I’m guessing the comic makes more sense now. Also I know I wrote “Camile” instead of “Camille” but I was too lazy to fix it.

Part of him still aches for “mommy” to come back, not because she was safe, but because she was the only warmth he was ever allowed to believe belonged to him.

She taught Carlo to cling to those moments like proof that she loved him, so the cruelty could always be reframed as “care.” And when she died, that conditioning didn’t die with her. With no parent truly present to catch him afterward, grief doesn’t just hit Carlo like loss—it hits like withdrawal.

Camile also made herself feel irreplaceable. She knew exactly when to soften—when to play the sweetest mother, the only person who truly “understood” him, the one who kissed scraped knees and spoke gently after making him cry.

So Carlo had no one to shield him, no adult who noticed the pattern and named it for what it was. Camile had the space to become the loudest voice in his life—and when the parents fought behind closed doors, Carlo could only listen through walls and learn, that even conflict didn’t mean rescue.

And Geppetto wasn’t there to stop it. He was absent in the way workaholics are absent—physically present sometimes, but never available. Always in the next room, the next project, the next “just a moment,” convinced providing was the same as protecting.

It’s what happens when someone spends long enough making you doubt your own reality: your brain stops filing them as “safe,” stops storing them cleanly, blurs the edges on purpose. Not because she had no face—but because remembering it clearly feels like letting her rewrite him again.

Because of that, Carlo doesn’t remember her normally. When he tries to picture her, his mind gives him something wrong—faceless, warped, uncanny—like the idea of her won’t resolve into a real person. It isn’t supernatural.

( I will draw her with 2 different designs. Faceless, and uncanny. )