My Blog is 15 Years Old
How strange.

ellievsbear

oozey mess
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
TVSTRANGERTHINGS

★
YOU ARE THE REASON

titsay
d e v o n

Andulka
will byers stan first human second

cherry valley forever
KIROKAZE
Mike Driver
trying on a metaphor

Kaledo Art

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Game of Thrones Daily
Misplaced Lens Cap
seen from United States

seen from Germany

seen from Malaysia

seen from New Zealand

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Singapore

seen from Italy
seen from United States

seen from Singapore
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seen from Germany

seen from Hong Kong SAR China

seen from United Kingdom

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@completedestruction
My Blog is 15 Years Old
How strange.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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“Behold… My power!“ He’s such a showoff. 😂
Hey guys, sorry to have pulled a small vanish again, everything is fine, I was just feeling unmotivated to art, which I later realized was because I wasn’t feeling happy with it and needed to git gud, so I was taking some time to practice, and after a bunch of that and a ton of fails, I’m finally starting to figure things out, so here’s a practice boi!
Still a long ways to go but considering it’s the first attempt in quite a while where I’m rather happy with it and didn’t end in a disaster right away, plus the fact that it only took me like 4/5 days compared to the 2 weeks it probably would have taken normally, I’d say it’s a step in the right direction, and I’m super excited to see where things will go from here. 😍
“Lucifero” - Roberto Ferri. 2021.
also a poem from the new, unreleased collection. very possibly my own all-time favourite.
This was a happy buzz in my 3am brain

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Going underground, Frank Kunert
Mindblowing Miniature Art
Love wins
Text: Sometimes in the dead of night on the way to the kitchen for a glass of water, I see an extra door in the hallway, black and imposing.
It’s not a bad boarding house, as these things go.
We’re not allowed up to the fourth floor, for any reason – but I don’t blame the landlady for wanting her privacy.
Nobody but the landlady answers the strange willow-patterned telephone on the third floor landing.
We all lock our windows on full moon nights.
No couples are allowed, ever. Only single women and girls.
And sometimes, if you go down the hall to the kitchen late at night, there’s a strange black door that’s never there by daylight.
For some reason, it’s hard to get new lodgers to stay. I don’t know why. It’s a little strange, maybe, but the meals are good, Mrs Hallow the landlady is kind, and the rent is ridiculously cheap. I’ll take the strange black door and the phone that rings even when there’s no wire going to it over rats in the walls and cigarette ash in the food any day. My last boarding house was like that. I like it here.
I’d been living here for nearly two years when I lost my job working at the telephone exchange. It wasn’t my fault – they cut the night shift back, and one of the girls cut was me. Mrs Hallow told me not to worry – as I was an old lodger, she’d let me work for room and board while I looked for another job. She’s so nice, I don’t know why people say she’s creepy. It’s not her fault she’s so tall and thin, and her bones show through her fragile old skin.
I worked hard, wanting her to be glad she’d kept me. One of the jobs she gave me, since I was used to working nights, was packing lunches after supper. For the Night Gentlemen, she told me, but didn’t say more. Every night, I packed twenty lunches in twenty tin pails and filled twenty thermoses with strong coffee. I made sandwiches, and boiled eggs, sliced pickles and cheese, and packed a paper napkin into each pail. I was to have everything done by eleven, Mrs Hallow told me, for the Night Gentlemen came at midnight to collect their meals, and I should be in bed by then. By morning, the pails were all gone. By evening, they were all stacked neatly in the kitchen again, clean and ready to be filled. I never saw them come, but I supposed it must be while I was sleeping.
Then I started to worry that my lunches were dull. I baked cookies for the lunch pails, and pies and pasties. I put in different kinds of fruit and vegetables each day. The Night Gentlemen worked late hours, if they came for their lunches in the middle of the night. They needed to eat good food. I looked through Mrs Hallow’s old recipe books and tried new dishes, like german apple pancake and potato dumplings. Mrs Hallow was pleased, and said she would pay me a little wage in addition to my room and board, if I didn’t mind continuing. She was getting too old, she said, to make all those meals every night.
I had been working at the boarding house for nearly six months when I really messed up. I’d burned a whole batch of cookies to a crisp, so I had to start all over, and I didn’t have time to decorate them before evening. It was Valentine’s Day, and I felt so bad that I decided to stay up late to finish them. The Night Gentlemen didn’t come until midnight, so I had time… I thought.
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DELETE THIS POST
ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME
*clicks play in morbid curiosity*
*hammers reblog button*
I think I find this post every April Fools Day and I am so happy that I do
I don’t know how I forget about this every year but I love it

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Something dark, crossing over.
The glow of their light drew me. I crawled onto the alter to bathe in it.
The Bright Star Puzzle Purse Love Note by Adrienne Rozzi // Poison Apple Printshop
Limited Edition of 100. Handmade screen print featuring the poem ‘Bright Star’ by John Keats
All drawings and images © Poison Apple Printshop

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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i don't want what you have i want to be you X
ARTS AND CRAFTS HOMUNCULUS
I found a nervous system in my yarn drawer, a dozen colors joined into a tangled, humming network of thought.
Despite my best efforts, I could not untangle it. I could not make it go away. Unsure what to do, I stashed it in a plastic bag underneath my bed.
I fed it stray buttons and paper scraps, hot glue globs and strands of hair, beads and blood and string and ribbon, until one day the mass began to stir and move.
(new mask new mask new mask!!! I tried a lot of new things with this one (posable features! drawn-on shading! wigs!) and fucked up in a lot of new ways (did you know that spray varnish can reactivate glue? I didn't!!) but overall? I'm ecstatic with how it turned out. their name is Pompom i love them very much)
[Image description: a photoset of a person dressed as their character, the arts and crafts homunculus, against a black background. The character design features many strings of beaded necklaces and bracelets, wool, yarn and buttons. They are wearing a mask with pale skin, one regular, larger than average eye and one large black button eye. The side of their face with the button eye is decorated jaw to forehead with other buttons. Their hair is made of white yarn of different sizes, tucked under a multicoloured, striped beanie. Their outfit is all knitted, and includes a brown, long sleeve top, a white vest and matching arm and leg warmers, brown shorts and white tights. They are also wearing earrings made of rainbow pom poms and their nails are painted in bright colours. In four of the photographs, they are shot from the waist up, showing different sides of their face, with different poses. In one of these, they are pulling multicoloured yarn from their mouth. In the fifth photograph, they are sat on the ground with their legs tucked in beside themself, pulling yarn from their mouth. /end ID]
This is lovely.