|This is the Featured Folder, a collection of our artists' best work. Feel free to browse through the others as well.|
|Hi there, these are all the rules I would like every deviant here to follow: |
First of all, you must be a Gorillaz fan to join. If there are any problems with joining for submitting, please comment or note one of the administrators.
Please only submit your Gorillaz artwork to the correct folder. If you think we may be missing one or are confused by them, please ask by leaving a comment or noting us. (Please do not submit mature content or writing in the Featured folder.)
OCs can go into the Other folder and if there are two or more band members in the picture, please put them in the Band Members folder. Any Damon Albarn or Jamie Hewlett art can go into the Other folder as well. The same goes for any drawings inspired by Gorillaz art or music.
If you have a person outside of Gorillaz with a band member, you can put the picture in the band members' folder.
Make sure you contribute your art and be an active member of this group. There will (hopefully) be contests held throughout, depending on if this group is active.
Get the word out there. If you know a really good Gorillaz artist or cosplayer and you think they'd like to be with us, write a comment saying who it is and we'd be very grateful. If you also know another group related to Gorillaz, Damon Albarn, or Jamie Hewlett, and you would like them to affiliate with us, please leave a comment with what that group is.
This group is pretty small right now compared to others but I assure you that with your help, we can work together to make it successful!
The Sillies.Shoving the last of his possessions into a suitcase, Stuart takes one last look around his room then drags the case to the door. Shoving it outside his door he exits the room, pausing to pick up the sports bag next to the case and sling the strap over his shoulder. Just as he does so, he looks up and realises that Murdoc is standing there eyeing him and his luggage carefully.The Sillies. by Spyder-Cross
“Ack! I mean allo. How long have you been standing there, bruv?” he asks, then sighs because of how small his voice had sounded, wishing that he had given himself time to build more confidence before he’d spoken.
“Long enough, not that it’s any of your business how long I stand anywhere,” the older man gruffly responds. “Anyway, I want you to pick up a couple packs of cigarettes for me after work, don’t forget.” Watching him turn away and head to the stairs Stuart takes a deep breath.
“I’m leaving,” he announces, surprised at how loud that had
Chapter Three: Merely A Dead Man WalkingChapter Three: Merely a Dead Man WalkingChapter Three: Merely A Dead Man Walking by InsomniacFlaaffy
“Where am I…?” Rows and rows of red velvet theater chairs appeared before him, tucked away in darkness as light shined only from an elegant lamp on the small stage. The annoying squawks of a nearby crow perched on top of a dresser mirror placed in the middle of the stage filled the silent void that was this mysterious place. Ancient wood floor boards creaked underneath him with each step up the stage’s stairs, he would have grabbed the stairs’ railing if the wood didn’t look like it would give him splinters. A fancy, golden cord next to the dresser dangled from the high ceiling above which was not there before he came upon stage. It swayed side to side gently even though there wasn’t any kind of draft or breeze in the enclosed space. Russel grabbed the tasseled end of the rope and gave it a little tug, the chime of
2d x reader | flava.2d x reader | flava. by withinyoureyes
please listen to this while reading this piece !
The mountains are waiting,
The full moon has come
Hyphema dulled eyes glared torpidly down the beeline road, their frame swathed in leaky frayed straw and fabrics. Plodded feet advanced in a sedate pace, the toe box of their gashed beetle-crusher boots scraping against the rubble bridge highway, which seemed to be bestrewn with overturned cars burning little, searing flames. Acrid smoke permeated the air, while being tinged with the sweet, musky perfume of rotting flesh and gore mixed with charcoal.
Kneading his clavicle with cadaverous fingers, he journeyed on, trying to cleanse his mind of the contaminated thoughts that lingered there.
I got lost on the highway,
But don't ask me where I've been,
Or what I've done
He could recall the indelibly haunting times they once had together.
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