Chaotic neutral

[insert-original-pseudonym]

Fanart for House in the cerulean sea.

I freakin love that book. not the final product, very rough sketch.

Lucy (personal favorite)

Sal

Theodore

Talia

Chauncey

Phee

I really loved this book, it made me so happy and it was just perfect.

[insert-original-pseudonym]

Yknow when you’re talking to someon, trying to describe, let’s say… a bin you need, and you gesture with you’re hands how big the bin needs to be, and then they say “so what are the dimensions?” (or some shit, who knows what they said.) and you say “I don’t know.” and then they start rattling off numbers like “is it 12x17? 11x26? 11x14?” and then you repeat “I don’t know,” because you’re not a fucking tape measuring area calculating volume knowing freak, and they just keep rattling off numbers, and you just wanna go to the store, you just wanna go to the store and get your fucking bins, because the sooner you get your bins, the sooner you can come back home and go to bed, and you really want to go to bed, because you had a flight the previous night, and it would have landed at 10 pm had the fucking President not decided to grace your fucking state with his fucking presence and closed all air traffic for 3 fucking hours, so instead of getting home at 11 as planned, you got home at 2, and then you had to get up at fucking 5 to get to your fucking road test, which you fucking failed (fuck you, sheela, you two timing bitch, you said the parking job was FINE.) (at least, I’m assuming, this is hypothetical…) so you can’t drive yourself to the store to get your fucking bins, and you can’t walk because your birth givers decided to raise you on a fucking prairie, and the nearest ANYTHING store is like fucking 12 miles away, and if this asshole who‘s refusing to just TAKE YOU TO THE FUCKING STORE keeps asking for dimensions of these bins you need you might just summon a contortionist demon to force said asshole to just bend his fucking body into the bin you need so you can fucking go to bed, and you’re Jewish and a couple thousand years ago a bunch of people screwed over your race so now for the next 3 weeks you can’t listen to any fucking music, (don’t ask) so you’re currently in a bathroom stall listening to an acapella version of “honey I’m good” by Andy Grammar trying to calm the fuck down, but you can’t, because it’s a fucking acapella version of “Honey I’m good” by Andy Grammar, and it’s giving you a fucking migrane, but it’s better then listening to dimensions of a bin you could have gotten 20 minutes ago, so you just stand in the bathroom and cry?

Anyone know what I’m talking about?

Anyone?

[insert-original-pseudonym]

I saw this in a Macy’s and I was like “I didn’t even know they had a size infinity! Neat!” And then I realized I’m an idiot.

[insert-original-pseudonym]

Prince Henry of Whales:

Alex Claremont Diaz

I really like this.

[insert-original-pseudonym]

Concept:

a world where everyone has superpowers based on their names. Ex: your name is rose, you have some form of briar power. As a result of this phenomenon, you have people named stuff like Auto, named so they have like wheels attached to their legs or something. anyway, one day, a baby is dropped off by an orphanage with a note, upon which is written the baby’s name. His name is murder.

[insert-original-pseudonym]

Now hear me out...

this

And this

Are the same.

I will defend this until I die.