#I see what u did there

[art-isnt-arting]

HEAR ME OUT

Keefe + Fox = The Little Prince

And Sophie is his rose 🌹

[smashorpass50plus]

A can of peas (contains hundreds of the suckers)

[amethystina]

Hey there, so sorry to hear about your loss, and sorry that this year has been so hard on you as a whole. I know nothing I can say will make things better, so I’m just popping by out of the void of the internet to offer you the virtual equivalent of a cup of tea (or other beverage of your choice) ☕️

A few summers ago I lost one of my grandparents, and after what had been a very long day a friend of mine gave me a piece of advice that I’ve yet to forget. “Go home”, she said, “And have a nice hot chocolate, or hot honey and lemon drink. It will fix absolutely nothing, but it will taste good, and even on our worst days, that’s worth something.”

That is to say, I know I say to take care all the time, but I double mean it now. Try not to worry about us too much, and take whatever time you need. 💜

And before you say I don’t have to pop in and say this, I know that! I don’t have to, but I want to, and I can, so there. :)

Thank you so much 💜

I admit that this year has been more of a rollercoaster than I would have liked. I had very high hopes in terms of how much I would write, draw, and do, but a lot of that hasn't been possible with all of the complications I'm facing. And I'm just really, really tired of it because, in many ways, it feels like I keep making excuses. That, surely, people must get tired of hearing about all the tragedies in my life that, supposedly, make me unable to post fics or function like a normal human being. Surely it must be exaggerated.

Which is a terrible thing to say to yourself, by the way — I'm well aware of that. But knowing that doesn't quite stop the thoughts from popping up, unfortunately. My brain is trying to find someone to blame for all this shit and, unfortunately, I'm the closest, most convenient target.

So thank you for sending this ask. It might not fix the loss itself, but it's incredibly comforting — and humbling — to know that there are people out there who care enough about me to send me messages like this. It feels surreal, almost, but in a good way? And I'm just so very grateful.

And I'll keep that advice in mind. It's a very good one — and very true. And I'm so sorry for your loss, too. I lost both of my remaining grandparents back in 2022 and it was rough. Losing someone you love always is.

So I try to be as patient with myself as I can. Which right now means spending the majority of my time reading fanfics, most of them from fandoms that I haven't touched in ten years. I guess I might be looking for something familiar and comforting? So yeah. Lots of reading.

But I also think about you all a lot and wish I could post chapters and such, because I know you all love them and the thought of being able to make others happy when I'm sad is... well, it would be pretty nice, you know? I like making other people happy. It's just how I'm wired.

But, that said, I trust you when you say I don't have to worry too much. And I trust that my readers mean it when they tell me to take things easy and put my health first. And that, too, is something I'm very grateful for. The kindness, patience, and support I get from you all truly is mindblowing.

So I won't say that you don't have to tell me all of this and will instead just thank you for doing so. It means a lot to me and did make me feel a lot better. Thank you 💜

[inthecemetery-a]

season 5: vinnie getting therapy and mentioning fear of change some of the cast: getting swapped out for newbies

[astrxlfinale]

@crimsontwins replied to your post “"Hm. Didn't know pirate season was such a trend on...”:

Sera: maybe You should stuff your chest too, hm? it could need some more volume~

​Now that got a snort out of him. "C'mon now! I ain't gunning to give make believe stories n' all-a that."

Instead, he prompts to just give a tug at the collar with a finger.

"My own supply is doing plenty well on it's own. I like workin' on my storage."

[v-anrouge]

picks him up in my arms carefully and takes care of his injuries

[chriiiiix]

THE LITTLE BOOB WINDOW

I love when the writers do this thing, because they totaly could draw his normal suit, but no!

[hinamie]

10 years later

[blitzbuckz]

"Hey, girlie. Plagued by terrifying visions?" [ blitz didn't ask for childe to show up so soon again i know but c:< ]

「𝐓𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒」 || prompts. / accepting.

【𐂃】 ❝ It's babygirl. if yer' gonna harass me fuckin' do it right -- but also fuck you. YA I'm bein' plagued alright 'n I'm lookin' at the motherfucker who's causin' it ! ❞

Childe's the last person in Hell, Heaven, or Earth he wanted to associate. As a given, the imp couldn't help to go off the walls simply by seeing his smug face. Like chalk && cheese -- they weren't there just yet. ( OR... as far as they knew )

[bacchuschucklefuck]

typical tavern scene

[caruliaa]

does anyone else remember when glados was like btw get out my facility its too hard to kill you so just leave. then she immediately puts u in a situation where it wld be very easy to kill u but instead u have a song sung to you that she wrote abt u being her precious darling beloved babygirl then after u left gave u back the one thing u had any attachment to in the facility that just so happens to have a heart on it. gay ass.

[9hels-a]

I love your Raphael and I would sell my soul to him if he asked. You do such an amazing job at writing him, I can hear his voice in my head…also that theme song. 666/10.

tell me your honest opinion of my portrayal

*drops on floor* ahhh thank you! but like this means a lot. i always enjoy and adore your muses ! and our chats on discord. ♡ that song is ‎️‍🔥‎️‍🔥

[soranker]

my girlfriend

[onejellyfishplease]

Behold! Shapes and Colours <3

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[acehalah]

i want to be the judge in an ace attorney courtroom