
izzy's playlists!
sheepfilms
cherry valley forever
Three Goblin Art
I'd rather be in outer space šø
Stranger Things

pixel skylines

JVL

#extradirty
Claire Keane
Aqua Utopiaļ½ęµ·ć®åŗć§čØę¶ćē“”ć
Not today Justin
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

Andulka

ellievsbear

ē„ę„ / Permanent Vacation
we're not kids anymore.
will byers stan first human second

tannertan36
i don't do bad sauce passes

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@forestspriteside

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nothig has hit like this since leith ross' we'll never have sex
The Hand ā Annabelle Dinda
Every time a guy writes a song, he's a cowboy, a sailor Playing with the world in his palm like the first pioneer. Every time he opens his mouth, it's a loud movie trailer Clipping every image and sound he thinks proves he was here. A hand, a spike, a physical fight, A flash of light, a curtain, A toll, a tithe, the passage of time, A height, a dive, a burden, A girl, a night, a typical type, A siren in the water, A scroll, a nod, a message from God, A son, a Holy Father. Every time a guy writes a song, he's a sailor, a cowboy Holding out the world in his palm like he made it himself. Every time I open my mouth, I think, "Wow, what a loud noise!" Still on the soapbox, just hoping I seem underwhelmed. The hand, the pen, the writing again, The Wind around the Willow, The felt, the ice, the passage of time, The melting down the window, The ānowā, the āthenā, the thinking of "when", The bottle in the ocean, The strike, the pause, the message from - God forbid she shows emotion. This isn't rage, it's worth a mention. This is a fake internal tension. Sometimes, I spread out one opinion And stand on its back to gauge attention. This isn't rage, it's too specific. I like to hate symbolic limits. This is no statement, I'm complicit. This is a dream, GOD put me in it. A hand, a spike, a physical fight, The Wind around the Willow, A toll, a tithe, the passage of time, The melting down the window, The now, the then, the thinking of "when", The siren in the water, The strike, the pause, a message from God. Does that make me His daughter? A hand, a shove, a valley, a jump, A score under the wire, Just sweep me up, just sweep me up And take me somewhere higher, Just sweep me up, just sweep me up And take me somewhere higher, Just sweep me up, just sweep me up And take me somewhere higher.
Holy shit this song hits like a fucking truck
I feel like I just had a religious experience
I keep listening to this enough that I had to find the album. If anyone else needs it, you can find it here:
by japanese painter and illustrator kato yuzu
doodled some manticores... i meant to make them properly monstrous and scary but idk I think they're kinda cute now
THIS IS THE BEST MANTICORE *whanging my fists on table* ART I'VE EVER SEEEEEEEEEEEEEN
Summer Twilight (2026) Watercolour version

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"Where do you see yourself in 40 years?"
me:
@gamergwen08 @sonic-fankid-showdown
VOTE FOR PYRITE NOWWWWW
SakuLee for <3 day!
leesaku is my everything.

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the brothers Area
Fairies
He had always been fascinated with fairies. Of course he knew that it was because he didnāt have one, and everyone else did, but really it was more than that. There was something about their light, the effortless way they flew, how they represented healing and rebirth. Link wanted a fairy partner from the first, but he kept that in. Let the other Kokiri think that it was fine, being alone, when they never had to be. Navi was a blessing when she came. Probably, other Kokiri would have been annoyed that she talked so much, but he appreciated it. Heād gotten too used to the silence, even with Saria as his friend. But āused toā didnāt mean that he liked it. It didnāt help that he was mute himself. That he always had been, except for the ānoisesā he made. It didnāt make the other Kokiri like him any more, but they were always nice. Polite. Link didnāt feel so quiet and different with Navi around chattering.
The first time he had stepped into a fairy fountain, on his path to becoming a hero, heād been so enchanted that heād want to stay. The water, the glow, the promise that theyād bring him back from the dead - but he didnāt know what death was, not really. His mother had died, but he hadnāt gotten to know her. The Great Deku tree had withered, and he hadnāt truly been able to process it. Kokiri didnāt die. They didnāt age. No one had talked about what dying meant before. āLet them live in one of your bottles, just for a little while,ā Navi said, āand theyāll help you when you need them most.ā Link had looked at her, confused by what that meant. Theyād made it through the Deku tree just fine. It still felt like theyād talk to him soon. āIf you die,ā she said gently. āThey let you get back up again.ā Link had coaxed a fairy into a bottle without questioning further. But she hadnāt told him that dying would hurt worse than anything heād faced so far.
Eventually he came to understand that death came at the end of pain. Sickness, injury, advanced age. Things that your body had no way to defeat. But it wasnāt an end with his fairies. When he burned to death, heād flash out for only a moment before the fairies brought him back. When his skin still burned, healing slowly, growing back like bark on a tree. They gasped air back into his lungs when he drowned. They pulled the sword from his chest as he bled to death, stitching torn aching flesh back together. Again and again and again. Because a hero was made, it seemed, to hurt. That he could die, would die, should die a hundred times for Hyruleās sake. Because his pain mattered less than Hyrule. Yes, he supposed, he believed that. He had to. There was no other choice. It made so much sense when he heard this wasnāt his soulās first time through life. That Link and Zelda and Ganon were caught in a loop they couldnāt escape. That yes, heād died so many times before, and that even the ones at the end of his lives werenāt the end.
The last death of his adventure, against Ganon, was the worst. Because he had run out of fairies in bottles. Out of potions, that tasted bad and forced his body to function a while longer. Out of milk and second chances. He was bleeding and tattered and breathing so hard it was all he could hear. Ganon was laughing, though. He was always laughing. This wasnāt his first death either, was it? An ill timed step let Ganonās sword hit him that final time and he fell without fairies. The pain did stop. The darkness did come. Before Link could truly wonder how he would wake up, next time, what kind of world heād have left to save after failing, here, failing himself and Zelda and Navi and everything - his wounds were stitching closed and he was standing again. āI shouldnāt do this,ā Navi whispered. āIām so sorry. I donāt think Iāll survive. I canāt help you anymore, but you can do this Link. You can.ā His first word was her name. The first battle heād won for her was the only one she wouldnāt get to see. So when Zelda said that sheād send him home, that heād get to live his childhood like he deserved, he didnāt protest quite fast enough. Because she might be there. Because fairies were life, rebirth, second chances. Because she had to be alive in the past he would no longer understand. Because he still needed fairies.
I finally drew them yayy
Free to use (with credit) Poochyena icons I had drawn back in early August and completely forgot to post anywhere LMAO

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shapely tigers š
pigeon courier's journey through a strange town inhabited only by cats. drawings for STICKII 2025 vintage advent calendar