you have to let your pb&j’s marinate

izzy's playlists!

JBB: An Artblog!
Not today Justin

titsay
occasionally subtle
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
🪼
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
i don't do bad sauce passes

blake kathryn
d e v o n
Three Goblin Art

No title available
DEAR READER

Andulka
Stranger Things
we're not kids anymore.

if i look back, i am lost
tumblr dot com
KIROKAZE
seen from Türkiye
seen from Türkiye

seen from Australia

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Italy
seen from Türkiye
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Germany
seen from United Kingdom

seen from Brazil

seen from Türkiye

seen from France
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@aquietcollectionofthings
you have to let your pb&j’s marinate
𝖡𝗈𝖻 𝖱𝖺𝖽𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗄𝗂
Heralding Spring at St. Mary's Abbey, York,England.
what do you mean my childhood affected me
i have terrible news
How to Steal a Million (1966)
Water painted by Ivan Aivazovsky (1817 - 1900)
Fairy Princesses
Watercolor On Black Cotton Paper
2023, 12"x 16"
Double Almond Blossoms
one of the best character types i think is insane man in a long fur coat
Fog on a Pine Plantation, Somerset
Photographed by Freddie Ardley - Instagram
Sophie Turner as Sansa Stark in 6x10.
A Himbo must fulfill ALL!
THREE!
PILLARS!
PURE OF HEART
BROAD OF CHEST
DUMB OF ASS
need to smoke with him
Entering the Kingdom by Mary Oliver
give yourself the gift of reading your own fic. it was literally written just for you.
took my own advice today and reread a fic I posted on AO3 seven years ago and I gotta say, it fuckin’ slaps
read your own stuff. it’s awesome
I was told once reading my own work is “vain” and I gotta ask: why? And so what? Does reading my own work bring me joy? Does it inspire me to write more? Then who cares if it’s vain or any other pejorative you want to name it. Joy is joy and this one hurts no one, is free, and IT’S MINE.
reading your own story isn’t vain. it’s like eating your own cooking. you just do it to feed your soul and your imagination rather than to feed your body.
I’m glad my readers love my fics, but I wrote them for me.
And I’m going to read and reread them.
The first time I ever felt like a successful author wasn’t when I finished my original work or got a couple 100 kudos. It was when I was feeling sad and lonely and wanted something sweet and hopeful to read, and the first thing I thought of was the fic I had posted a few weeks prior.
adulthood is realising no one cares about you and the show must go on