chapter64

[chapter64]

a little shelter.

[process on patreon]

[chapter64]

don’t name your children after fictional characters. if they’re transgender enough they’ll do it themselves

[chapter64]

Marie.L.Manzor 💚✨

[chapter64]

[chapter64]

Alexandra Dvornikova on Tumblr / Instagram / Society6 / Etsy

[chapter64]

So she just wanted to cause problems huh

[chapter64]

I'm at the donut shop. I'm at the gun shop. I'm at the combination donut gun shop.

[chapter64]

[chapter64]

I was inspired by a joke in a discord server and thought I'd try making a simple little 2-frame animation of an ampharos lighting up some Christmas lights.

Happy holidays, yall!

[chapter64]

Ghosts haunt people, not houses.

[chapter64]

I’M SCREAMING

[chapter64]

Decided to digitize the Inktober drawing "Do You Trust Me?" This underwent a bit of a glow up from the pen and ink. Just love These two working as a team.

Also the last penumbra episodes just has me wound up so tight, hell, how can Nureyev be such a big part of an episode without even being there? Juno looking for the spaces Nureyev isn't and the big gapping hole is right next to our detective.

Tags and reblogs are greatly appreciated ^^

[chapter64]

DID SOMEBODY SAY REVERSE MERMAY?

…

Nobody?

…

TOO BAD.

[chapter64]

[chapter64]

Mandy Rosenfeld 

[chapter64]

Mount Rainier National Park, Kevin Russ

[chapter64]

You know what's wild? I'm an adult. I can take the ingredients from my cupboard and make play-dough if I want. I can watch scary movies in a tent in my living room, if I want. I can paint my fingernails all different colors. I can save up and take a weekend course on pottery. I can buy a beginner's robotics kit. I can get some scrap at the thrift store down the road and teach myself circuitry. I can go on YouTube and fold an origami dragon. I can wear a cape and introduce myself as The Wizard. I can tie-dye all my underwear. Cut the sleeves off all my shirts. Make my jeans into jorts and paint fish all over them. I can become an expert on box turtle husbandry. Keep a tank full of beetles on my shelf. Raise tadpoles, dye my eyebrows blue, start a cowboy hat collection. I can eat grilled cheese and mango slices every single day until I'm sick of them. I can put my bed in my living room and turn my bedroom into an art gallery. I could start a blog about vintage crochet patterns, or start photographing the feral cats that live on my street. I could find a stranger outside, right now, and learn their whole life story. I could learn to mix drinks. Become a bartender. Find a job on a travelling cruise ship. I could drop everything, right now, sell everything I own, and assume a new identity in St. Petersburg. I could learn ASL. Start baking. Stack a domino tower up to my ceiling and then knock it over without taking any pictures to remember it. I could draw a slug in a bowler hat. Eat nothing but orange food for a year. I could sit in the dark for hours with a bed sheet over my head, waiting for the sun to rise like a ghost. I could teach myself card tricks and become a street magician. I could invent a new instrument, a new hard candy, a table that comes down from the ceiling instead of up from the floor. I could cover my ceiling in plastic flowers. I could catch a seagull and set it loose in my house. Open my cupboards and smash all the glasses I don't like using on the floor. I could set my radio to a French 80's revival frequency and leave it there. I could start burying coins in my yard, make a papier-mâché bust of the late Queen Victoria. I could set it on fire. I could melt old nickels with a blowtorch. Swallow spaghetti through my nose. Open my front door, go out for a walk, and never come back. Let my bills and possessions and responsibilities rot away until it's all gone, like a bloated deer on the side of the highway, nothing left but bones, the memory of someone who was there once but isn't anymore.

I could go diving. Build a shelf. Carve fruit shapes out of bricks and driftwood. Sing a song that goes on for so long that I forget the first words by the time the last verse comes out. Suppose I started specifically saying stuff starting softly, snakelike? Can you imagine? Can you imagine yourself doing any of these things? What's stopping you? Is it a choice, or a trap? Are you caged? Caged by who? Someone else? Yourself? You could open that cage. Open that door, tear it apart like paper and cobwebs. It's not real. You built it in your head. Maybe you had help- maybe someone bigger and stronger and far more frightening laid the foundation, but they're gone now. What will you do? Will you choose nothing? To choose nothing is to make a choice. To look at all of creation, infinite possibility, and say "no". What a powerful choice. All your choices are powerful. You Are Like God, and if I were a devil I would hate you too