people on my "making AUs for OCs" post keep going like "oh you mean like a STORY? like a BOOK? OP that's just a STORY!!" like no you don't get it. you don't get how much my friends and i play with our ocs like dolls. we're talking swap AUs. homestuck classpecting. MLP AUs. evil AU. "so just making stories" you're like a little baby to me. leave my sight

reblog to give warm bread to your mutuals

there are some internet friends where eventually you start calling them by their real name and then there’s times where its like nah son your name is crispy forever

the muse ⬇️

kicking my legs and giggling at the sleepover. can my OC who I've never drawn or talked about play with your OC who you've never drawn or talked about

I laughed so fucking hard at this

process of drawing an OC: - you design them - you get attached to them - their hair gets bigger without you realizing it

It's extremely rare for me to not post something because it's too bad. But this was a 4 edible situation

[names my sons cain and abel] alright. get to it

How do you start your day?

The key shortcut of "windows key" and "." held together has changed my life

like

emoji access? supremely powerful 🙂💖

But

Kaomoji ?

The year is 2013 and I am unstoppable ヾ(•ω•`)o o(*￣▽￣*)ブo(*°▽°*)o

l. the lovies

thinking about wallace wells. thinking about going through hook ups like tissue paper, never believing anybody will stick around besides scott, who's here only because he has nowhere else to go, and you let him stay anyway even though he doesnt pay the rent. one of the only consistent people in your life, someone you might've actually genuinely liked straight up dying and leaving you with a sudden void of an empty apartment and a cold spot in a futon. thinking about immediately getting wasted and bringing a guy home, someone whose name you won't remember but it's okay because youre only in it for the sex— you dont believe in sparks, after all. believing that scott's conception of his one true girl was a joke because you just don't think you'll ever love anyone like that. kissing someone on a movie set because it's something to do, because he's dressed in the costume of somebody you cared for, because it's all manufactured, false realities and layers of separation deep enough for you to brush off his pleas for connection. thinking about going to paris after everything, the city of love, as tacky as that is, saying you're only there to spend money. but despite the insistence on irony you meet a guy— a fellow canadian, actually, twin foreigners in an unfamiliar place. someone who actually wants to stick around, who follows you through the city to see the sights and seems to genuinely like you. it can't be genuine, though— can't possibly be a reason to stay beyond a few hookups. so you stop at the river and you kiss him to get it over with...

but instead you see sparks.

I’m like if someone smart chose to be an idiot. Out of free will