hbomb-art - Tumblr blog

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The Australian Ballet is doing Alice in Wonderland again and on one hand I’ve seen it before, and on the other, their Queen of Hearts has my favourite costume in anything every

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happy pride month! miku loves you ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

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Hey is anybody having trouble with those Captcha test things lately? Mine are getting kinda weird and I’m even not too sure what to click on

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All the new pride unicorns are up!! These guys have needed a refresher for ages, but I'm so happy with how they turned out! They're up in my Redbubble and Teepublic if you wanna support a little queer artist you can get them on a bunch of cute stuff!

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Montage de photos

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Hey jsyk it’s 2018 and if you’re still drawing characters with big lips like THIS, even if they’re pale/not black, it’s fucking racist. Stop doing it.

No excuses. “It’s a stylistic choice!” It’s a RACIST stylistic choice.

“Idk how else to draw big lips!” That’s because you relied on racist caricatures and are a bad artist. Teach yourself. Learn. If you’re not willing to do that, then you are a bad, racist artist.

“But it’s part of the character design!” Yeah, and it’s racist. If it’s your OC, then change it. If it’s not your OC, make the right choice and draw them with normal looking bigger lips instead of this racist monstrosity.

And if this post makes you uncomfortable because it’s calling you out for stuff you’ve done, good. Fix it. Own up to it. Grow.

If you see this and you’re first thought is to defend this: you are racist. You are part of the problem. Congrats. Now work on yourself and unlearn that.

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A mouth-watering fuck-ton of hand angle references.

By Shadowcross on DA.

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Short animation film. A Jeju Story character expression Sheet sohyun childhood

www.ajejustory.com

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My new oc, the pidge witch 🥨

She uses snacks for spells

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The good news: Soulmates are real.

The bad news: Reincarnation is also real, and the vast majority of souls on Earth are not presently incarnated as humans. If you are a living human, statistically your soulmate is currently some sort of beetle, or possibly a small salt-water crustacean.

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Tell me when you get bored. A story about doses. [x]

I posted this on twitter and had a variety of aggressive ableism thrown my way.

This is a story about changing what I can in spite of what I cannot for the comfort of my loved ones. The thing that others find to be hurtful about me is that I like to spend time in silent solitude. People who love me often feel hurt that I tend to solve my own problems instead of leaning on them.

When we spend too much time together, people find my neutrality to be concerning, and it becomes too much for people to be unable to read me.

To show the people I love that I enjoy their company in ways they can understand, I pool my energy together to be high-energy, peppy, and social. Since this is not my natural state of being, it takes effort, which can only be expended in small doses. I amplify the things people like in me while filtering out everything they dislike about me when I am in their company.

I change my behaviors for those I love, but at the end of the day, I cannot change my neutral state of being, which is the thing that they want most out of me.

This is a story about me accommodating people in the best way I know how, not the other way around. I would truly appreciate it if people don't misconstrue this anecdote as me asking for dismissal of hurtful behavior when in reality, people find hurt in the fact that I simply exist, and I must change for them.

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Art by Leah Gardner

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Mermay by MAYA LIOR

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You're stuck in a timeloop but can't tell because you're on a train going through the great plains

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I had a dream that the king and the queen of a small country had a daughter. They needed a son, a first-born son, so in secret, without telling anyone of their child’s gender, they travelled to the nearby woods that were rumoured to house a witch.

They made a deal with that witch. They wanted a son, and they got one. A son, one made out of clay and wood, flexible enough to grow but sturdy enough to withstand its destined path, enchanted to look like a human child. The witch asked for only one thing, and that was for their daughter.

They left the girl readily.

The witch raised her as her own, and called her Thyme. The princess grew up unknowing of her heritage, grew up calling the witch Mama, and the witch did her very best to earn that title.

She was taught magic, and how to forage in the woods, how to build sturdy wooden structures and how to make the most delicious stews. The girl had a good life, and the witch was pleased.

The girl grew into a woman, and learned more and more powerful magics, grew stronger from hauling wood and stones and animals to cook, grew smarter as the witch taught her more.

She learned to deal with the people in the villages nearby, learned how to brew remedies and medicines and how to treat illness and injury, and learned how to tell when someone was lying. 

Every time the pair went into town, the people would remark at just how similar Thyme was to her mother. 

(Thyme does not know who and what she is. She does not know that she was born a princess, that she was sold. She only knows that one night after her mother read her a story about princesses and dragons, her mother had asked her if she ever wanted to be a princess.)

((Thyme only knows that she very quickly answered no. She likes being a witch, thank you very much, she likes the power that comes with it and the way that she can look at things and know their true nature.))

The witch starts preparing the ritual early, starts collecting the necessities in the winter so they can be ready by the fall equinox. Her daughter helps, and does not ask what this is for, just knows that it is important.

The witch looks at Thyme, both their hands raised into the air over a complicated array of plants, tended carefully to grow into a circle, and says, sorry.

Keep reading

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My new WIP :)

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The Disappearing Act. support me with tips, kofi, commissions