To terminally-ill disabled people: you aren't going to be forgotten. You deserve a space here in this world no matter how long you'll be here. You deserve every chance to be happy, to be welcomed, to be understood, to be accommodated, and to be taken care of to the fullest extent. You haven't "given up," you are so incredibly important, and it takes so much to be in your shoes. I hope you can find pride in who you are. Your existence is meaningful.
@fuji-iri forced me to upload this at gunpoint. Anyways welcome to the underground's worst game show
Audio is from Game Changers the sam says episode
ramble that (hopefully) justifies me making this act of defiance against god under the cut
THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SKETCH THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SKETCH I WANTED TO COLLAB WITH WIST (fuji-iri) BUT DECIDED TO DO A MESSY SKETCH FIRST SO WE COULD BE ON THE SAME PAGE ON HOW EVERYTHING WAS SUPPOSD TO LOOK BUT WHEN SHE SAW IT SHE DECIDED I HAD TO SHOW THIS TO THE WORLD ALREADY. IT'S SO MESSY AND BAD GOD DAMN IT THERE ARE SO MANY THINGS I COULD POLISH. AUGH
Anyways crying is over welcome to the art taglist bitch. yes this may be piss poor to my standards but god forbid my mutuals go one day without seeing me be the funniest motherfucker on earth with my shitposts. Look at my animatic, boy
[ID: A drawing of Volo from Pokemon Legends Arceus. The piece depicts him standing in the Coronet highlands, among the ruins, with the trees burning and a blood red sky. Volo stands in his Celestica toga looking at the viewer with a haunted look, and a halo behind his head in the shape of Arceus' crest. End ID]
The worst part about reading in a genre where you have low expectations (in this case, Christian historical fiction) is that when a book impresses you, you have no idea if it's actually good or if you're just overly impressed because it was a fraction of a degree better than the usual garbage.
Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.
Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë
Eddie knows from a very young age that fate is cruel. He learns it from his parents first; learns that his mother was destined to shed tears and his father meant to roar in anger like the engines of the cars he steals. Tied together by cheap wedding rings, words on their wrists. They were stuck together unlike the love they used to hold for each other, that once upon a time had the power to turn black ink on their skin into glowing gold, but had left them as time passed by.
I'm so excited to finally be sharing my first @steddiebang piece!
As the Poets Say by @transmascsteveharrington with art by Riddletalks on Twitter (Link TBA because this is scheduled to go up at ~5am in Australia and Riddle's link doesn't exist yet) and me (who'd better be asleep rn).
I'm a sucker for soulmate fics, especially ones where they grow into the love and it becomes a choice. My original idea is so far removed from this, but I got caught by one lore-building sentence and ended up here. (Also I love Escher and painting hands, so there's that too.)
I can't wait for everyone to see what we've made. I hope you enjoy it! (Read the fic. Read the fic. Read the fic. Read the fic. Read the fic. Read the fic.)