#i like talking about art and id like to talk about my art but it's just not interesting enough

[can-i-make-image-descriptions]

[Image IDs: Series of posts from Kit Whitfield - fantasy author reading: Nice people are struggling over the revelations on Gaiman, and something I keep hearing is, 'His work had a big influence on how I shaped my own identity.' So here's something to remember:

You did that. He didn't do it for you. 1/

I was never a deep Gaiman fan, so maybe I can't talk, but I do know how a certain kind of charisma works.

There's a Thing people love, and someone is a star at it. Not just into it, but 'make it their own'.

Say: they don't just paint with a lot of blue, they're the Blue Artist. 2/

Do you like blue too? You'll find a lot of it in their work. Maybe you'll develop your love of blue looking at it. Maybe their work is where you first realised how much you love blueness.

Cool.

But they don't own the colour blue. 3/

It was your eyes that saw the colour, your brain that interpreted, your heart that felt its beauty.

You didn't love it because they're the Blue Artist, but because you were always a person who could love the sky. 4/

And if you came across their work when you needed to figure some things out, and you used it to do that?

You put in the work to build yourself.

They don't get to be your identity landlord just because you both see beauty in blue. They are smaller than the sky. 5/

Some artists are very, very good at branding themselves so you might feel like you have to go through them to love the thing you love.

But it's just branding. People can make great use of blue, but nobody Is blue.

You stand under the same rainbow. 6/

So if his stuff helped you figure some things out? Those were things about you, figured out by you.

You love mythology? Comic or dark fantasy? Imagination? Fiction?

So did he.

But so do you.

So keep loving the stuff you love. It was never his. He just accessed the same things you did. 7/

Sometimes art can be a mirror.

Sometimes we need to look at ourselves and think about who we want to see looking back. A mirror can help.

Some mirrors are silvered with mercury. They're full of poison.

The image you see in them is you. It always was. 8/8 /End IDs

[matchpointfaist]

a love like religion ˚₊‧꒰ა♡໒꒱ ‧₊˚

sheltered! art x flirty reader pt iii

the third time he saw you, art couldn’t decide between happy and horrified. he’d been doing his best to stay focused on his studies, his faith, and his training; on anything but you. his thoughts drifted, sure, but for the most part he thought he was doing pretty well. an entire week passed, and he managed to avoid you on campus, ignoring his fleeting thoughts of wishing to see you, even for just a moment.

he knew, in the back of his mind, that attending his teammates birthday party was a mistake. he knew you were in the same social circle, that you’d probably be there, all gorgeous and flirty and drunk and- it was just best if he didn’t see you.

he told himself he wasn’t taking extra care in his appearance for you; he just wanted to look good, that’s all. a birthday party is a big deal. so he got dressed in a button up and jeans, made sure his hair was perfect and his cologne wasn’t too strong, and tried to keep his head high as he entered the already too loud party.

almost immediately, his eyes fell to you. everyone’s did, though, he couldn’t blame himself. you were a vision of pink and silver shimmer, your hair falling down the dangerously low back of your dress. his breath quickened, his mind racing with excuses on how to get out of here before you noticed- and then, your sharp eyes were on his, a dangerous little smile on your glossy lips.

“donaldson!” your voice carried over the music like a melody, like some sort of siren call crafted just for him, rendering him helpless, “cmere!” and he practically floated to your side, a nervous smile on his lip, “uh, hi, hey. i didn’t know you’d be here,” he managed, biting the inside of his cheek and hoping he didn’t think too stupid.

“course id be here,” you grinned, “what’re you drinkin? i can get you a refill,” he shook his head, “no, i don’t drink, i can just get a water,” “you don’t drink?” you laughed, like it was the most insane thing in the world, “cmon, artie. come with me,”

so he followed you to the kitchen, let you pour him a cup of stale beer even though he knew it was wrong, it was stupid, it was a sin. “it’s cheap shit, but it’s fine,” you sounded almost apologetic as he sniffed it, trying to keep his nose from scrunching, taking a shy sip. “you look pretty,” he said after a moment, choking down the beer with what he hoped was only a slight grimace.

“you too,” you smiled, and for just a brief second, it seemed real. not like that fake, mocking smile you gave everyone else. in a flash, though, it was gone, replaced by the coyness you showed the rest of the world, “nice shirt. green looks good on you,” you trailed your fingers over the collar of his shirt, and he almost lost it right there in the crowded kitchen, his head swimming. “my grandma got it for me,” his cheeks flushed, acutely aware that was not the right thing to say, but you didn’t seem to mind.

“cute,” you just smiled, “here, finish that and i’ll make you another, kay?” he shook his head, already regretting the first round, “no, i really can’t, i’m sorry,” he rambled, “i have class tomorrow and i don’t drink anyway and-“ “don’t worry about it,” you rested a hand on his shoulder, “it’s fine, artie. we’ll have fun anyway, yeah? you can just watch me drink,” you teased. and oh, he did watch you. all night, you practically dragged him around the party, inches from you at all times.

he watched you laugh, watched you dance, watched you drink and smoke and all the things he’d always be too afraid to do. he watched you in rare moments of your true form as you interacted with your girl friends, watched you shut down the guys that tried to dance too close to you. he watched so intently he felt like he had learned who you really were in just a few short hours, like he’d cracked some sort of code he must have missed before.

at 11, he debated leaving without even saying goodbye, just leaving you to your dancing and talking. but as he turned to leave, you were calling his name, a little pout on your lips that sent him reeling. “i’ll walk you home,” you offered, and he took note of your heels in your hand, your bare feet on the floor. “no, that’s alright,” he smiled slightly, “thank you, though. that’s kind of you,”

“let me,” you pressed, “at least let me walk you out, art,” so he did, of course, like he did everything else you asked of him. you walked with him to his dorm, and when you asked to come in, he let you do that, too. even when his head was screaming at him to stop, that this wouldn’t end well, that temptation was the gateway to sin.

you just looked so fucking pretty, sitting there on his bed, your heels tossed in the floor and the skirt of your dress on his comforter. he wished he could memorize the moment, bottle it up and save it for when this night ended. surely you’d never be back there, he told himself, this was just one time. a lapse in judgment, on both your parts.

but then he was sitting beside you, and your perfume was so sweet, and your words were even sweeter when you asked him about his hometown and his family and the pictures on his bookcase. you sounded like you really cared, like you thought he was interesting. you, of all people.

“you can relax,” you told him, and his heart nearly stopped as you pressed your leg to his, scooting closer on his bed, “jesus, you’re so tense. i’m not gonna bite you, yknow. not unless you like that,” you winked again, and his cheeks were flushed, his mind working overtime to form words that just wouldn’t come.

“you shouldn’t be in here,” he finally blurted out, his eyes wide with fear of the way it sounded, like he didn’t want you there when that could not be further from the truth, “sorry- that came out wrong. i just- i can’t be with anyone, and you’re in my room and it’s late-“

“you can’t be with anyone?” you repeated, a laugh on your lips, “why not, hm? is the devil gonna getcha if you slip up?” and then your hand was back on his necklace like all those days before, touching it, burning into his skin, “live a little, art,”

and then you were kissing him, and oh god, oh god, oh god. it was heaven and hell and a mistake and bliss and burning and soothing and everything he’d been too afraid to admit he’d ever wanted. you tasted like vodka and cotton candy and sacrilege and he couldn’t get enough, couldn’t hold back the sounds leaving him from the simple act of your kiss, couldn’t stop his hands from wandering and fuck, you were so warm and so soft and he could’ve died right there when you climbed into his lap, kissing him dizzy, tipping his jaw open with your fingers and dipping your tongue into his mouth.

he would’ve let you do anything in that moment, would’ve let you ruin the path he’d been on for so many years, would’ve let you dismantle all his plans and his faith and anything you wanted if you just kept grinding against him, kept kissing him so sweetly, so dangerously.

and then you sank to your knees off the bed, your hands pulling at his belt and your eyes shining as you blinked up at him, a sultry little smile on your swollen lips. “you’re so hard,” you hummed, sounding content as you pulled down his jeans, “has a girl ever touched you like this, hm?”

“no,” it came out like a whine, his hips bucking into your hand as you ghosted your fingers over his cock, “jesus- no, no one has,” you made a little noise, like you were pleased, and your eyes widened as you pulled down his boxers, taking him into your hand. “this is so- oh, this is so bad,” he hissed in half-pleasure, half-anguish as you pumped him slowly, your lips parting. “why’s it bad?” you asked, so innocently, so sweet, “just making you feel good, art. that’s all,”

“a sin,” he panted, eyes screwed shut, knowing full well if he looked at you he’d finish right there, just from your hand, “this is- sex before marriage is a sin and,” he trailed off, fucking into your hand despite himself, a little whine leaving his throat.

“oh, no,” you tsked, and when he dared to open his eyes, you were pouting up at him, “it’s okay, art. i’ll be good, yeah? i’ll make up for it,” he didn’t have time to question how before your tongue was on him, licking at the tip like a lollipop, and his eyes rolled back, his hands fisted in his sheets.

“forgive me father, for i have sinned,” you murmured, and he choked out a moan as you took him into your mouth fully, so warm and wet and close- fuck, he was so close. you pulled away with a pop!, “holy mary, mother of god, pray for us sinners,” and then his cock was down your throat, and you were humming around him and he was so fucking close- his hands were in your hair before he could think to stop himself, his hips bucking into your mouth, your name leaving his lips between moans and pleas.

he didn’t know what he was asking for, exactly. forgiveness, release, for you to slow down so this never stopped, but for you to make him cum down your throat like he’d imagined so many times before. one hand was in your hair, the other clutching his sheets as he came, panting and moaning and whining he opened his eyes in just enough time to see you licking your lips clean, wiping your chin with a grin, sucking your thumb into your mouth.

you leaned down, kissing him until all he could taste was salt and sweat and you, god, you, and then you were gone, his lips still hot. “amen,” you whispered against his ear, gathering your heels and pausing at the door, “see you around, art,”

and then, for the second time, you were gone. he looked down, and nearly fainted when he saw what was left in his floor. your pink lacy panties, complete with a little wet patch, bundled up just for him.

“forgive me father,” he mumbled to himself, picking up the lace and tucking it into his nightstand, not even bothering to clean himself up before curling up and drifting off, his mind busy with thoughts of you.

[artsymeeshee]

Random idea I got this morning thinking about how small little things (mostly about missing important moments of the past) make the boys emotional and sorrowful.

[warmfuzzyanimal]

i heard you folks might like fluttershy? 🦋

[give-me-your-heart]

thanks for the tagg!!

What's the origin of your blog name?: i wanted a queen of hearts themed url hehe but unfortunately ruler-of-my-heart and off-with-your-head were taken so i decided on give-me-your-heart!!

OTP(s)+Ship Name: YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME I LOVE EVERY LEGAL SHIP... i mean... i really like mizuena from prsk and leoviljami from twst hehe... OH AND SHALT/SHUVALT!!!

Favourite colour: red and any pastel shade except maybe green!!!

Favourite game: Project Sekai and Twisted Wonderland!!

Song stuck in your head: dear yesterday by lucien lunaris!!

Weirdest trait/habit: dont know how weird this one is but i sing in the shower lots

Hobbies: doodling, writing(in my head unfortunately), rambling, watching vtubers and doomscrolling on social media lmao

If you work, what's your profession?: i am a student so-

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be?: something arts-related, either a writer, actress or singer!! and a vtuber as a side hobby hehe

Something you're good at: singing i guess? i like to think im a good writer but its iffy

Something you're bad at: oh boy. time management, maintaining a proper sleep schedule, math, physics, actually talking about my feelings and setting boundaries

Something you love: TALKING TO YOU GUYS!!!! and family game night!

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: KAGEROU PROJECT. MY BELOVED EUEUUEUEUEUEUEUE

Something you hate: when people disrespect my clearly set boundaries, especially my irls

Something you collect: BRACELETS!!! I LOVE BRACELETS

Something you forget: my schoolbooks unfortunately

What's your love language?: uhhh i guess gifting, words of affirmation and sometimes quality time!!

Favourite movie/show: inazuma eleven, beyblade burst, BUDDYFIGHTTTT

Favourite food: C H E E S E 🧀

Favourite animal: rabbitssss!!! and octopi! my cuties euueueueu

What were you like as a child?: the most innocent, sensitive, talkative and creative child ever probably. i was also short. and clumsy.

Favourite subject at school: english, music, maybeeee art! oh and maybe literature

Least favourite subject: math and science... and phys ed

What's your best character trait?: im really empathetic ig? that and id say my self-controls pretty good

What's your worst character trait?: i am constantly lying about how i feel and unfortunately easily get pissed off 😭😭 at least i hold it in ig but yeah im really sensitive

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be?: well uhhh i would like to be way less busy 😭😭

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet?: my paternal grandmother! ive never met her but id want to see what it was like back then, even if it was. hard.

Tag as many mutuals as you want! (no pressure): @itsmylovedaydreamdreamdream @peapea-0405 @blob-with-a-pencil @cceanvvaves open tags!!

Get to know your mutuals!

What's the origin of your blog title? When I was in middle school, someone told me "you dress so goth, but your personality is so happy. You're like a really cheerful grim reaper. A joyful soul collector." And that's been my username for most everything ever since!

OTP(s) + Shipname: Oooh, right now it's Jayvik, and tbh I can't think of another one, this is one of the first ships I've been really really into tbh. Other dynamics focused on my blog have actually been more platonic, like Irondad

Favorite color: Red!

Favorite game: Dungeons and Dragons! Both as a player, and DM!

Song stuck in your head: The Challenge - EPIC

Weirdest habit/trait? I download thousands of still frames of tv shows that I love so I can make memes out of them. But I have to sift through and delete all the pictures that are blurry or unnecessary, which takes hours. I think it's super fun because I'm autistic and really enjoy sorting stuff lol

Hobbies: Writing, playing DnD, making memes, and hanging out with my friends!

If you work, what's your profession? Not so much a profession lol, I work at a toy store. It's a part time job while I'm in college, studying to be a radiologist!

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be? Realistically? Radiologist. But ANY job I wish? Professional DM or Professional DnD player, like the people on Dropout or Critical Role haha

Something you're good at: I'm good at writing stories! I can write them well and write things that make people feel deep emotions, and I like that.

Something you're bad at: Recognizing when someone doesn't want help haha. I tend to try and fix things or help people when they just want to vent, and it ends up frustrating for both of us.

Something you love: I love stories. Any kind, I love so so many

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: My favorite shows and stories, my dnd campaigns and characters, my stories and ideas

Something you hate: Fascism. Bigotry. Willful ignorance. Fearmongering. Propaganda.

Something you collect: Dice!! I'm a dice goblin for sure haha

Something you forget: I often forget chores unfortunately

What's your love language? Physical touch and acts of service

Favorite movie/show: Ooh right now it's definitely Arcane haha

Favorite food: Sushi!

Favorite animal: Cats!

What were you like as a child? In a word? Unwell haha. I'm a good bit better now, still struggling with a lot, but better than I used to do

Favorite subject at school? English, I was always good at that class

Least favorite subject: Chemistry. I hate that shit so much lol

What's your best character trait? I think that I'm kind and willing to stand up for others

What's your worst character trait? I can be disrespectful to some types of spirituality unfortunately. It just doesn't make logical sense to me. I have two friends that are fully convinced that a cursed doll gave some youtuber testicular cancer. And I just can't see the logic or critical thought in that

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be? Mmm. All of fascism shit is definitely damaging my calm so I'd love to change that specifically

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet? Harry Allen. Google him he's a badass transgender cowboy

Tag as as many mutuals as you want!!

@sb-essebi @glitternightingale @blatterpussbunnyfromhell @captainhollowstories @kydrogendragon @misforvendetta @poetryinmotion-author @bocularteletheric @kai-ovillager @thatoneneuvichiliauthor @4amarcanethoughts @alexspearsxoxo @kotonni @buckybucananbarnes @kakesuwolf @martybaker @patheticjayce @sleepycrowhours @aixabi @up-the-bracket @snoopyviktor @emdashflower @humanshapedstress @hellsalore @juuzousmom @softandslow @fangirlshenanigans04 @batmans-attic @lvrstrsh @bluemoyai @tearexxwrites @bodyofvvater @lifeandeathepub @areesespiece @lancesblueazaleas @monaisme @milkywaysipper @carmendyy @tseecka @heazueken @tophat-69 @velocitychroma @prjctdiva @gremlinofchaos @ourvectorviktor @kenjinx @jxmimac @gh0stedvhampir @voxconcordia @arcaneheraldslawyer

ngl I tried to tag ALL my mutuals that I have, but this was how many it allowed me to do before it made me stop lol so here's as many as I could fit!

[biblically-accurate-dca]

painting test with a limited color palette

here's the moon equivalent!

[hinamie]

there's no furbish word for dilf :( sad :(

[anemonet]

pro tip: you can always put the bugs in little outfits :thumbsup:

[24bughours]

Maybe the real gravity falls fanart i made for pride month was the fiddleford watching madoka magica piece i made along the way

[arielluva]

if only things had been different for you

id under cut

[ID] a digital painting of dahlia hawthorne and iris from ace attorney. their backs are facing each other, with dahlia on the far left of the picture, and iris on the far right. their hair is blowing towards each other, and connecting in the middle. dahlia is looking over her shoulder, with a neutral, but cold, expression. a single tear is falling from her eye, and her loose hair is blowing into her face. her right eye is not visible. white glowing butterflies are flying around her, and she has a noose around her neck. iris is facing sister bikini, who is off screen. iris is also crying, but bikini is wiping away her tears. iris's loose hair is blowing behind her, and out of her face. above dahlia and iris are two drawings of dusky bridge. above dahlia, the bridge shows the silhouettes of valerie hawthorne pointing a gun at terry fawles, who was holding a young dahlia hostage. no details can be seen on the figures. above iris, dusky bridge is on fire. underneath dahlia, there are red dahlias that are dripping blood, and under iris there are some irises. in the center of the picture, dahlia and iris as children are standing side by side. their hair is black and medium length. they have bangs and both twins have a braid going down the side of their head, dahlia's on the right side of her head, and iris' on the left. they are both wearing white dresses, white knee-high socks, and black mary jane shoes. both of their dresses are dirty, with dahlia's being slightly dirtier. [end ID]

[umblrspectrum]

still thinking about it so heres a bunch of stuff

[donnyclaws]

THEY CALLED IT GODLAND

A1 posters for school, using my spec bio setting idea as the backbone. Only had 6 weeks to make everything you see here, truly and honestly drug me through the mud in a My chronic pain is much worse now kind of way. Happy with the work, bitter about how hostile university is ect. I'll post more development stuff from my backlog later, and it's something I want to keep working on. For now enjoy my penguins and open this in a new tab to read 🦭

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄  SITE   Kofi   Zines   Patreon  

[doomedclockworkdotmp3]

i didnt write my essay for this 👍👍

im so festive with my red and green color combos n whatnot

[naggingatlas]

'thats not his role in the story!' hm i wonder what the point of it is then. hm i wonder what the dead pixel scene means. hm i wonder what wrong organ are trying to say with the context of 'awesome male friendship' and 'corporate hell where the only woman onboard is constantly under ridicule, abused or forcibly forgotten yet is the catalyst' if not this. hm i wonder how curly's physical agony being a direct parallel to anya's mental agony, stripped of voice, agency, just like her, and being forced to watch what happens while not doing jack shit, just like he used to, plays a part in this. i wonder what the moral of him being the final girl says about living with the consequences of your inaction, because of sentimentality, because of status, career and social. hm i wonder whatever the fuck this game was trying to say. hm i wonder what else is on this person's blog Oh Lord there's yaoi penice.

[randomminty]

Yippee

[clover-mouse]

a good dream where i'm not a child anymore and my promise didn't come too late. a good dream where you're just a lamb and i'm there for you like you needed.