WHAT DO I TAG THIS AS - Blog Posts

Hi! No pressure if you don't feel like it 🤗 ✨💖if you get this, answer w/ three random facts about yourself and send it to the last seven blogs in your notifs. anon or not, doesn’t matter, let’s get to know the person behind the blog! 💖✨

oh boy oh boy A QUESTION FOR WITTLE OL ME? IS FOR ME?🥺🥺🥺🥺

Aight I FIRST MADE A TUMBLR ACC BCS THEY DIDN'T LET ME READ FANFICS WITHOUT AN ACCOUNT ANYMORE before I first started using tumblr during my Tokyo Revengers and Hypnosis Mic phase and I made this account during my vtuber era

I had such a hyperfixation on Sunday from Honkai: Star Rail to the point where I made a stan blog of him in the middle of the night followed by me not sleeping as I spent the rest of the night making a divider for my intro post

My biggest hyperfixation of all time is my oc KATRINA FUCKING EVERSLEY GOSH DARN YOU. SHE INVADES MY BRAIN, SHE HELPS ME GO THROUGH MY STRUGGLES, SHE HAS ALL OF MY FLAWS MADE WORSE BUT HER STRIVING TO BE BETTER MAKES ME WANT TO BE HER. No one really ask about her but damn the joy id get if someone did (on my knees begging /j (/j bcs im actually so invested on her)).

honestly the story as to why I drew this is over 600 pages long

DARK AND POISON MY FAVORITES

A ham, egg, and cheese bagel, I'm working on texture

(Tap for better quality)

She tightened her hold of the hand dearest to her and uttered in a tone of quiet contempt, ”No rose shall e’er bloom over my grave, god forbid!”

“And you wonder why the eternally vague intentions of mortals morph into creatures as alluring. Will thou not cast away thy pretence lady?” Enquired back the night. The song of the Cicadas rung as soft as church bells through the veil of silence that clung to the earth, among which lay the echoes of unheard laughter and the tears of unseen eyes. Thought held in open hands slipped away, away into the river of time, into the sweetness of lost memory. Wherein is the difference? Futile words and futile life clasp hands/together to form sculptures of forsaken gods on earth and heaven, they can but stretch their hands out and sob at the foot of the aspen poplar and look in terror at its shuddering leaves as it pierces their hearts with the arrow of ichor, the mortal blood was said to be poisoned from that day on, for the indifference of the deity was a luxury ill afforded by the child lying under the sparkling night sky beset with a gentle gray drift, behind which lays life, held off, locked up. Always with the promise of far away, the far away that is permanently entrenched in the distance/the fragrance of neverland.