#papa!graves

[foxybouquet]

My latest, a gift to a friend: Nihil, Copia, the Crow, and (randomly) Grave Robber (from Repo! The Genetic Opera)

[mixed media— pencil, white and black ink, and. markers on tan-toned Strathmore paper].

Some closeups under the cut:

And a digital edit I made today:

[lady-nuggetz]

That's PIMP Gideon.

Don't get it twisted.

[gomzdrawfr]

some commissioned artwork I did :D

I have one more slot for Doodle category, and 3 more for the tumblr exclusive one!! for more details of my commission info, click here

[lyeofhell]

i have the "secondo's so hot it makes me feel like my head's gonna explode" disease . yes it is fatal

[voorheehees]

Me leaving the Longlegs screening (I have psychological wounds and new fears I never thought plausible)

[rain-shoshana]

Some thoughts on Nick Buckley-spoilers for Peril at End House and ABC Murders!

I really think Nick Buckley is up there with Franklin Clarke as one of the most diabolical murderers Poirot ever encounters. The sheer amount of straight up lying to Poirot’s face she does-lying to everyone! And the simulation of grief! She’s truly so so scary.

Rereading the book is always such a trip. There’s so much she does and says that is just pure performance. She planned everything out so far in advance and so meticulously. It’s bonkers. If Poirot hadn’t happened to be on vacation and run into her she would have fully gotten away with it, too, and probably married George Challenger and lived a long, happy life at End House. Absolutely chilling.

Everybody say thank you to Aggie for giving us a cold blooded female master murderer who used a gun instead of a so-called “woman’s weapon” like poison. Extremely good stuff!

[whiskingskin]

Blorboed too hard now I have to learn how to draw them ugh

[erin-writes-ghost-fluff]

The brothers- except for Primo of course- forget that one must not say 'thank you' to Grave. It's a force of habit, they were raised to express gratitude by Primo. And when Copia, Terzo, or Secondo forgets, the phooka loves fucking with them about it. Sometimes she acts offended and tickles whoever it is, until she thinks they've learned their lesson.

Other times, she requests they make her a favorite dessert or meal. On some occasions she's a sly little shit and tells Secondo that she wants an edible or a hit off of his bong.

It takes a while for them to start expressing gratitude in other ways, such as offerings. No matter what, the fae has fun with these goofy old men. Though she wishes Primo was more easily tricked.

[boschintegral-photo]

Cimetière De La Chartreuse Bordeaux, France

[phillipgraveshusbandfr]

this little shit looks more like Adler than Phillip 😭😭

[ageofwagner]

time for another re-read of my all time fave ghost fic🥰

[farter-imperator]

Trans Copia where no one in the ministry knows he's trans is actually something that's so important to me

[a-typical]

My parents died years ago. I was very close to them. I still miss them terribly. I know I always will. I long to believe that their essence, their personalities, what I loved so much about them, are - really and truly - still in existence somewhere. I wouldn't ask very much, just five or ten minutes a year, say, to tell them about their grandchildren, to catch them up on the latest news, to remind them that I love them. There's a part of me - no matter how childish it sounds - that wonders how they are. 'Is everything all right?' I want to ask. The last words I found myself saying to my father, at the moment of his death, were 'Take care'.

Sometimes I dream that I'm talking to my parents, and suddenly - still immersed in the dreamwork - I'm seized by the overpowering realization that they didn't really die, that it's all been some kind of horrible mistake. Why, here they are, alive and well, my father making wry jokes, my mother earnestly advising me to wear a muffler because the weather is chilly. When I wake up I go through an abbreviated process of mourning all over again. Plainly, there's something within me that's ready to believe in life after death. And it's not the least bit interested in whether there's any sober evidence for it.

So I don't guffaw at the woman who visits her husband's grave and chats him up every now and then, maybe on the anniversary of his death. It's not hard to understand. And if I have difficulties with the ontological status of who she's talking to, that's all right. That's not what this is about. This is about humans being human.

— The Demon-Haunted World: Science as a Candle in the Dark - Carl Sagan (1996)

[johannadc]

Bit silly, but a lovely reminder why I will always be a Rupert Graves fan. His Lestrade is wonderful. I'd watch a spinoff.

[sisterruthisconcerned]

Oh you SMug BASTARD.

I want him to destroy me, with the jacket on, is that too much to ask.

[erin-writes-ghost-fluff]

MINORS DNI

I've got the funniest shit- at least to me- in my head, this morning, involving my OC, Grave:

Secondo is an old goth. And this man has some opinions. Just to fuck with him, Primo tells Grave that if she tells Secondo that The Smiths- and Morrisay are better than The Cure and Robert Smith, he'll give her an entire box of chocolate truffles. And like her Papa, Grave will never say no sweets.

So, she does as instructed and o boi... Secondo goes on a rant. One does not simply say that Morrisay is better than Robert Smith, in his presence lol.

"No! You obviously don't know shit about good music! Robert Smith would wipe the floor with Morrisay! He would decimate that fucking asshole!"

"Wait, why is Morrisay bad??"

"I'M SO GLAD YOU ASKED!"

Primo may be old now, but he's gotta fuck with his younger brothers sometimes, even if he uses other people for his dirty work lol. Secondo eventually finds out but Grave still gets her truffles.