Guys follow my art account @samaels-art
Or follow my OC lore account @when-angels-cry-lore
Claire Keane

JVL

★
NASA
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
dirt enthusiast
styofa doing anything
KIROKAZE
todays bird

#extradirty
Cosmic Funnies
No title available
hello vonnie
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

@theartofmadeline
ojovivo
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
cherry valley forever

tannertan36
seen from Netherlands

seen from Italy

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from Slovakia
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from Japan
seen from United States

seen from Poland

seen from Malaysia
seen from Canada
seen from Albania
@proudly-a-killjoy
Guys follow my art account @samaels-art
Or follow my OC lore account @when-angels-cry-lore
unfortunately i can never hate on a "power of friendship" narrative no matter how corny because the thing is it's literally real
we talk about doing it scared and doing it alone but what about doing it uninterested
i know i’ve talked about this before but it’s really insane when you were passively suicidal for two decades and out of the blue you catch yourself saying shit like “i’ve been trying to eat a lot of fibre because i don’t want to risk colorectal cancer in my 40s” like okay … 40s are part of the plan now?
no one else twists the knife as good as u come over
you can always give that character psychosis and a personality disorder
I’m gonna kill (remembers suicide jokes are bad for my mental health) someone else (remembers murder is bad) on accident (realizes it’s not an accident if I say I’m gonna do it) and I know because I’m from the future (remembers lying is bad) no I’m not (feels guilty) I’m so so sorry (remembers actions speak louder than words) (does a backflip)
Laura Benson, “In the Center of the Home There is a Tunnel”
gelli-plate with archival ink, 2025
Alright. Okay, Everybody listen up. We have good news and bad news. The bad news, the bad news is that as you've likely already noticed, The Beast without Measure or Mercy or Knowable Form has once again begun descending nightly from its highland lair to ravage our humble farming village, we are, once again, being ravaged. You've likely already noticed. That's the bad news. That's bad. The good news is, uh, the good news is that right now it appears to be exclusively attacking and devouring all of the, uh, all of the very small children. Specifically the babies. No, hang on, shut up, shut up, all of you shut- No, I don't want it eating the babies, Jesus, lady, let go of me- I'm just saying that it's not really negatively affecting our ability to respond strategically by doing so. Because besides a few bouts of grief-induced catatonia we're still at like 99% operational capacity here, right? The babies were all very cute but they were not gonna be the ones packing into this hovel to come up with a game plan. Babies weren't the ones with institutional knowledge of how this thing was banished last time, babies aren't the ones who know how to forge pitchforks and light torches. In fact, babies didn't do shit around here! Easily our weakest link. If it was starting with the twenty somethings we'd really be fucked. I mean forget about the athletics involved of the monster hunting, we would not be getting the harvest in before first frost
Look, everyone, just- okay, I get it, many of you liked your babies, a couple of you still do, I get it, I get it, I get it, but put me down and think big picture here! We are a humble farming village. We were always gonna lose a bunch of 'em to mountain scurvy and mumps and all that humble farming village shit. It's just that this time it's a Beast of Form Unknowable that bursts through your wall at night and eats your kid right out of your arms, so you're experiencing the loss as a sudden sharp shock instead of as a long winding despair where you're watching it happen while knowing you can't do dick about it because the marauders marauded off with all our seed corn. For example. It's not part of the, the background radiation of your life yet, that aching, ambient sense of failure, yours or the worlds, you aren't quite sure. You'll never be sure. But once you've gotten used to never being sure? Well, compared to someone of fighting age, the turnaround time on a new baby is actually pretty- guys. Guys. Please put me down
the thing about media literacy is that understanding why the author chose to specify that the curtains are blue is the same skill set as understanding that the way the author characterizes all black characters as angry or all chinese characters as meek and silent is racist. it is the same skill set as being able to identify when a news source is biased or when someone is feeding you propaganda. the ability to ask "why did this person choose to present this premise in this specific way?" is a critical skill in a world full of misinformation. why are the curtains blue? maybe it's a characterization detail. maybe it's extraneous worldbuilding. why is this character written as being right all the time? maybe you're intended to disagree with them. maybe it doesn't matter. maybe you should still ask why.
blows up a random stranger with a rocket launcher for no reason then falls to the ground weeping histrionically & receives the tender attention & support of everyone present
i bring a sort of "this character is canonically malnourished and would gain at least a couple pounds during their hypothetical healing arc wherein they get better" vibe to the function that people dont really like
if "29" is your idea of an older woman you have a flickering pale aura and you will not survive daylight saving time
There really is a Day Shift and a Night Shift here are tumblr.org and baby i’m pulling a double
sometimes a woman hurts every man who enters her life because she's awesome
sexualising a blade sliding between the gaps in plate armour
yes it's obviously penetrative imagery but it's also + more importantly about the intoxicating, terrifying helplessness of being violently reminded of the limitations of your attempts to defeat your own vulnerability