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#that I'm always weak for
hellenhighwater · 27 days
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There's nothing like moving a pile of rocks in and out and around to remind you that you are simply not as yoked as you used to be
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front-facing-pokemon · 10 months
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akeminy · 1 month
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OMFGGGGG I’M ABOUT TO PASS OUT, TO RIP MY HAIR, TO DIE HEREEEE
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kirumiri · 2 months
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buddy daddies friday!!!! and a valentine's pic
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venussaidso · 4 months
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Punarvasu being Beast and Mula being Beauty will never not amuse me. Punarvasu men unconsciously and specifically chasing Ketu natives will never cease to amaze me actually. I will not support this pairing but it's a nice, intriguing dynamic -- reminds me of the fanfic trope of the pure girl helping purify the bad boy but not in the Sun-Moon dynamic way I've talked about. The man has to prove himself to her that he's willing to change to earn her love and to be helped to further transform etc. It's better than the Moon woman-Sun man dynamic because Ketu women will destroy the man's ego & suck him dry while Moon women usually tolerate the male ego and further boost it.
Idk I like Ketuvians sucking the life out of men. I advocate for this even though Punarvasu men like chasing weird & draining women lmao.
I'm rambling a bunch of shit don't take this observation to heart.
Also not all Jupiter nakshatras can be saved lmao. Lestat and Louis are literally a Punarvasu x Mula pair.
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Lestat being an arrogant, over-indulgent, boundless narcissist is very Jupiter nakshatra of him; and Louis seeing the monstrosity he is --is very Mula of him, I can't unsee it. But their connection didn't last because of Lestat's unwillingness to change wahhh wahhh.
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Ketu natives will not tolerate Jupiter's uncontrolled ego so the success rating of this pair is like at 50/50, knowing how Jupiter men operate.
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averyshittyseal · 8 months
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Some Sketches of my favourite dorks
(And my inconsistency in drawing Harry)
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sysig · 4 months
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It’ll all go fine if you’d just don’t worry about it, probably (Patreon)
#Doodles#Handplates#UT#Fellplates#Gaster#Toriel#And technically Sans and Papyrus are offscreen in that last one but they're there!#Starting with a dress because Gaster always needs some pretty clothes!#His cute little angel wings expanded into a shawl :D With a feather-themed dress as well#I was thinking he'd look good in a bleeding-heart pigeon getup - just a little on the nose symbolism hehe - but it'd be very stark as well#But I mean Monsters don't bleed it's fine probably it's just a pop of bright red! Doesn't mean anything!#Thinking about the symbolism of his decorative wings normal-like as well...and of Gerson talking about the Angel of Death.....hmmmm#I'm sure it's nothing haha :)#Thinking again about Toriel taking issue with Gaster's new hole punches but not necessarily of her knowing what they mean#He has to be careful how much he shares of his progress! If she knew what might she make of him? Of them?#Two new little things to be subjugated? Or worse? All the more reason to keep them secret#I like both so much but hmmm he also wouldn't be held as accountable if he kept them secret#It's interesting as well - Gaster had a lot of growing pains with his experiments initially - I wonder how much Fell!Gaster struggled?#He always seems so placid and put together but surely Something breaks him - hard to avoid where and how he is now#Maybe not forever but just for a moment! A moment of weakness is all it takes after all ♪#All the more reason to have safeguards in place!#Like teaching the boys how to heal! :0 Fellplates!Gaster would be able to heal wouldn't he? But nobody else could haha#Would the boys be able to from the beginning? Or do Fell Monsters have to develop it? :0 Through inaction or through intention? Hm ♪#It'd be nice proof of concept if they could heal :) No time like the present!
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andry-di · 1 year
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What did she tell her?
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mel-loly · 29 days
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-“Ties and a Unique Love”..
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2hoothoots · 2 years
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(open in new tab to see the details!)
a little illustration project i’ve been picking away at the past few weeks! the initial plans for these kinda got away from me but i like how they came out anyway, and they were fun to put together! might do some more at a later date
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Jaiden can recognize when someone else is playing Cucurucho. Just like the other Egg parents can differentiate when it's another admin playing their Egg, or if the Binary Monster is pretending to be their kid...
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pumpkinrootbeer · 4 months
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Eugene was truly the best boyfriend. saw his girlfriend get broken up with, and immediately had a revenge glow up. Imagine being Cassandra seeing your ex girlfriend's boyfriend and he's wearing a golden choker with the just deepest v neck known to man, the world's sluttiest gloves, and a thigh garter. I'd have to give up then and there.
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front-facing-pokemon · 9 months
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sysmedsaresexist · 1 year
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mockingjaysnakes · 2 months
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RACHEL ZEGLER
in interviews on the red carpet for the premiere of his film 'Y2K'.
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possibilistfanfiction · 9 months
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Delicate
it's been a weird day already.
but not, like, bad: the sky is clear and it's not windy, which is such a welcome break from the weeks and weeks of rain you kind of want to dance down the sidewalk or something (you don't, but only because you have on this cool new pair of pants you thrifted last week and one over-exuberant roll through a puddle and they'd be wet for the day); there wasn't a long line at camila's coffee shop, so you were early to work; none of your appointments, even, have been late. good-weird sometimes feels way more unsettling than bad-weird, though, or at least that's what you've told your therapist who nodded — trauma responses, this and that, or so she says.
your first two clients are easy — small, simple stuff, which is always nice to start off with. chanel is finishing her last session on a wicked cool back piece with a chill client, and it's all pretty vibey until you're outside on the little front patio of the studio eating the pizza you'd grabbed from down the street for a late lunch, casually people watching. it all happens so fast: you're taking a bite and then, bam, there’s someone on a bike skidding out of control and then falling with a thump, tangled up in the metal frame and pedals spinning.
'shit,' you say, even though the person is already struggling their way out from under the bike — a good sign, overall. but still, you put your pizza down on the table chanel insisted you buy and wheel down the ramp until you're on the sidewalk, close enough to be able to ask, 'are you okay?'
the person — a very, very hot person, in carhartt overalls, a pristine white t-shirt, and blundstones — groans but then nods, stands up fully from the street and hefts the bike back upright by the handlebars. 'yes. i'll be fine. a minor fall.'
there's an embarrassed blush rising behind freckles and, 'you're bleeding.' it's roadrash, nothing serious, along an elbow, both palms, but still — 'my shop is right here.' you point behind you. 'let me patch you up, we have all the sterile stuff and everything.'
'i — okay.'
you smile, then smile even bigger when this very hot bike-falling blushing stranger takes her helmet off and her short hair — slightly sweaty — is tousled, a little messy on the top, even messier after she tries to brush it back with her fingers. 'sweet.' you offer your hand, even though she's dragging her bike alongside her. 'i'm ava.'
she leans the bike against her hip, grants you a small smile, and meets your eyes, even though her blush gets worse. 'beatrice.'
her hand is calloused and warm and she locks her bike against your railing, then follows you up the ramp.
'so you're who moved in,' she says, not unkindly, and you nod. it's a beautiful studio — you'll claim it was 50/50 design choices all day long, but it really was mostly chanel who chose the perfect shelving, the easy colors, the furniture that was simple and comfortable and cool as fucking hell, all at once. 'me and chanel, the other artist and owner,' you say. chanel's gun is very quietly buzzing behind the partition that separates her station from the front desk, and you lead beatrice back to your station.
the scrape along her elbow — delicate, one of the most difficult places to tattoo properly, all small, sharp bones and live-wire nerves — isn't deep or particularly dirty, so you clean it quickly and without too much discomfort, if her comfortable quiet and measured breathing is anything to go by.
'you're an expert on this, i suppose,' she says, as you get out your second skin once everything is clean and dry.
you laugh. 'tattoos aren't too dissimilar.' you allow yourself to look — after a lot of restraint, thank you very much — at her nearly-finished sleeve: fine lines and tender greyscale of flowers and plants, a few bugs, woven together. there's space on the underside of her wrist, still, a little unexpected. 'this is beautiful.'
beatrice smiles softly, a little sad. 'thank you.'
'no, like, genuinely.' you take your gloves off once the second skin is on perfectly and roll back in your chair to see it a little clearer. 'it really is.'
that blush again. 'i'm a gardener,' beatrice says, as if that explains everything. you have a few silly tattoos along your thighs — some are from you practicing along your own skin, a perk of not feeling anything below your waist — and your favorite along the top of your right hand. it's the first chanel did for you, the start of how you became friends — and business partners, eventually — and it's not hard, really, to remember the control you felt when you got to choose to make your body in your own image, when you had someone you trusted to help.
'that's awesome.'
she nods, once, like it's a finite truth. 'along with my sister, i run the florist shop on the other side of camila's. we farm all of our own flowers, only local pollinators.'
'permaculture,' you say, 'sick.'
it gets a laugh out of her — fucking delightful, and, whew, you want to keep making that happen — 'it is.' she stands, looking almost — dare you say it — regretful. 'unfortunately, i do have to get back to said shop for the afternoon. but maybe i can buy you a coffee?'
'camila gives me my coffee for free.'
she blanches and it takes a few seconds before you reach out and pat her hand with a laugh. 'i'm sorry, i was just messing with you. i'd love to get coffee with you.'
'yeah?'
'dude, are you kidding? i want to know all about your plants.'
she's got the most proper accent of all time, and you're kind of wishing for her to say something like, and i, your art, but instead she just nods, a little tongue-tied, you think, which is endearing in its own way too. 'thank you again, ava.'
'anytime.' you pause. 'well, not the exact same circumstances. don't need you flinging yourself off of your bike just to say hi to me again —'
'i didn't fall because of you —'
'i know i'm, like, cool and stunning, but you really should be more careful.'
she rolls her eyes, but there's still a smile on her face. you know you're, as chanel puts it, dangerously charming, so you'll take it.
you watch her walk down the ramp and unlock her bike, then walk it two doors down to the florist that always had swathes of wildflowers in the windows. you've only been here a few weeks, and you'd been very busy setting everything up and getting your clients in asap, but you'd planned to check it out eventually. now, you have even more of a reason to.
and, like, maybe it's a little gay, whatever, but you transfer out of your chair to sit more comfortably at your station while you wait for your next client and start to sketch some wildflowers and their pollinators. bees, your favorites, and maybe it doesn't mean anything or maybe it means something. you don't really believe in everything but you do think that people can be kind and that the earth itself is overwhelmingly good. that's enough, most days, really.
chanel finishes with her client and it's a good-good-weird day because she offers to order dinner without you even having to whine. you fall asleep later at home thinking abt how warm beatrice's skin had been, how it had been easy to make sure she would heal well, all the flowers there, blooming; her freckles and her blush. maybe, if you're lucky, she's thought of you too.
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