OMG… today at school I asked to use the bathroom because i HATE MATH CLASS!! and im wasting time and after 5 minutes of taking selfies and blogging on my tumblr blog my teacher walks into the bathroom and says “What are you doing?” And I accidentally said “None of your business, Cumberbitch!” and he stood there shocked but then he said “Who do you ship?” and now we follow each other on tumblr!
From the land of ebay presales:
Bonita Femur is the cutest and has a pretty clever name (BONE-eeta Femur).
The other two, meh, I much prefer dolls with humanoid legs. But collectors will probably buy two of each- one to leave intact, and one to rebody. Well-played Mattel, well-played!
I got a request from hear-me-rory like 5 ever ago to draw a "pretty blonde deer man trying to woo a sulky reaper” and forgot to post the sketch so since I felt bad I decided to quickly paint it and make it look nicer but it’s still p shitty
what’s even worse is I GOOFED and made him brunette when he should have been blonde
OH WELL I hope they like it all the same if they see
dare you to write a fic
Oh my god look how well you organized the valuesssssssss yessssssssssssssss
i want this ship to workout
“I…I can’ touch you." His voice was an odd thing, the slow, sombre toll of a bell in a belfry, high above graveyards. It scared most.
It did not scare this thing - this thing that even he could admit was beautiful in the way only nature can be.
“If I touch you, you’ll wither. You’ll die." That seemed a terrible fate for something so alive.
But this not quite man, yet eternally not animal merely smiled, inching closer and closer - as if he were the one approaching a scared animal, and not the other way around. “You won’t. I surely would not die from your touch. You don’t always *do* what you are, you know.”
And how strange it seemed, to think such a thing to be true, but no, no. He knew better. Everything he touched died. All things, great and small, whether the towering trees or the tiny spider hiding amongst its leaves…they all succumbed.
But when the beastman reached, sun-dark fingers(the color of healthy bark, he might later learn) touching the unforgiving black of his robes? He did not crumble, did not age.
Eyes as green as good grass had watched - had perhaps even feared the possible outcome of his own death…but when he felt not a stir, not a wither?
The generous bow of his mouth started to climb and curl, settling into a smile that looked right at home on his handsome face.
“See?” he murmured low and slow, leaning in towards the perpetual smile that skulls tended to wear. “You can’t hurt me. You do’t kill everything you touch. They’re all dead already, just waiting for you to arrive. You, solid, strong, and always everpresent.”
And Death decided, upon his first kiss, that if this was what Heaven felt like, then maybe being dead wasn’t so bad after all.
OH MY GOD THAT WAS BEAUTIFULLL!!!!???
BOTH WRITTEN AND VISUAL ART COMING TOGETHER LIKE POETRY MAKES MY HEART BURST MY GOD THIS IS BEAUTIFUL.
I can’t believe Lady Gaga is Hatsune Miku’s closing act