ts-sideblog
ts-sideblog
ts-sideblog
13K posts
The cake is a lie. And so is everything else. Including you. And me. And life. Deal with it. Zoya || 30+ Quote from @sassyshoulderangel319
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ts-sideblog · 3 years ago
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Existential angst doesn’t always have to be a crisis. Like, I know the term “existential crisis” has a certain ring to it, but most of the time that’s going a bit far, isn’t it? Sometimes what you’re really experiencing is more like existential perplexity. Existential furrowing of the brow. A spot of existential what’s-all-this-then.
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ts-sideblog · 5 years ago
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So much frustration and all I wanted to draw were the puffy sleeves
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ts-sideblog · 5 years ago
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I love them
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ts-sideblog · 5 years ago
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Mood.
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ts-sideblog · 5 years ago
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Logan: Crushes are the worst.
Remus: Yeah, whenever I’m near someone I have a crush on i start acting stupid.
Logan: I don’t get it, you’re always acting stupid?
Remus: Yeah, don’t think about it too much
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ts-sideblog · 5 years ago
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5 Meter Mauern by Elen
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ts-sideblog · 5 years ago
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oops my hand slipped. I totally didn’t stay up past 3am making these, nope definitely didn’t.
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ts-sideblog · 5 years ago
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Beach episode?
Please click for better quality.
I spent so long on this I kindve don’t want to look at it ever again. But also. I spent so long on this so I’m posting it anyway.
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ts-sideblog · 5 years ago
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im sorry but the answer about sewing on the pocket sides because they come with their own pockets is just so cute i mean can you imagine character Thomas with his denim jacket and the core four are sewn to the basic four pockets up front and c!thomas just goes "wait there's more" and he opens up his jacket and janus and remus are sewn in on the inside pockets just chilling 🤣
Okay but that was too cute not to draw
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THEM!!!
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ts-sideblog · 5 years ago
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In the parking lot behind an old corner store at the edge of town, you could see the world caving in. 
Kind of. 
It wasn’t a sinkhole or anything, so the world wasn’t literally caving in, but the cracks in the pavement all traced back to one spot, like the eye on an asphalt map of a spidering hurricane; a withered tree loomed overhead, with leaves that crumbled to pieces before they hit the ground and black bark crawling its way upwards in a seemingly endless death march. Settled right next to an abandoned storefront with mottled paint and a collapsed roof, the scenery wasn’t exactly inviting, and its emptiness made the world seem almost paused - if you laid right in the middle of the cracks and stared up at the tree’s drooping branch, it felt like the world was actually caving in. 
Remus had swallowed a couple leaves on accident while laying there, but overall, it was a pretty peaceful pastime. It also gave him a good place to go and be angry at the world. He could tolerate a few leaves in his digestive system for that. 
Here, he had space. He had a noisy quiet, the buzz of cicadas and rushing cars and his fingers tapping on the pavement to fill his focus. Here, under the tree and on top of the cracks, the urges to kick things and scream into a void and squeeze his eyes shut for hours until his face hurt and the rushing thoughts in his head made no more sense than when he started - all that fizzled into the limbo of the parking lot.  Here, he didn’t feel… calmer, really, but like he could tolerate the frenzy a little easier. 
Another car zipped past, wheels screeching. Remus thought about what he must look like to them, a boy just laying on the pavement. They would look out their car window for a second, spot him on the ground and feel a small spike of concern, and then they would be gone down the road forever. He would be a moment of worry in their lives for a split second, and then they would forget him. He kind of liked the idea, kind of didn’t - he could do whatever he wanted, because he would be a fading figure in their memories soon, but he’d had enough of being a simple inconvenience a long time ago. 
Another leaf fell onto his face. He blew it back up into the air and watched it drift to the road, then watched it get run over. He couldn’t recall what color it had been. 
Another wave of something urgent ran over him then, like a car in his chest; he took a deep breath and blew harder, filling the space around him with whatever it was, watching it mingle with the wind and push more leaves off the tree. He’d given up on naming the feelings a long time ago, right after everyone else gave up on trying to understand them (and him). They were sharp, and heavy, and they beat against his head and chest, fighting to escape however they could - he used to act on them like it would make them go away, impulsive and futile - but without a name, they were just a passing nuisance, haltingly acknowledged but ultimately ignored. He wondered a lot if his parents regretted giving him a name. 
He grabbed a fallen leaf and ground it into the pavement, sprinkling the tiny pieces into a nearby crack. The loose asphalt bit into his cheek, but he didn’t mind; it was a nice reminder, sometimes, that he was real. That he was a living, breathing human being, who deserved feeling and time and attention and understanding, even when asphalt left marks on his face, or when the things inside him weren’t pretty and simple and familiar, or when he felt so angry at the world for letting him exist as he did without explanation. 
But then again, the world was caving in beneath him, and he guessed none of that really mattered when you were laying right in the center of disaster. That was the appeal of this place to him, if he was being honest - anything that crossed his mind here was inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. He could be angry and lonely and righteous all he wanted, and no one could condemn it, even himself, because the cracks underneath him would spread eventually, and the nameless burdens would be swallowed up right along with him. 
He was so angry with this world. But it didn’t care; it held him up with the cracked pavement and said, “You are who you are, with all your broken pieces inside you,” and left him with that, with only the promise of the cracked ground beneath him as apology.
He didn’t know what to do with the broken pieces, how to name them or put them back together. How to make everyone try again despite them. He didn’t know what to do with himself. 
So he just laid in the parking lot and felt the world cave in. 
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ts-sideblog · 5 years ago
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request from instagram :)
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ts-sideblog · 5 years ago
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Oh look, new fandom
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ts-sideblog · 5 years ago
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Pocket Sides 5/9: Janus
So maybe you want somebody as dark as Remus but not as messy? How about Pocket Janus?
— Do not use edit or repost my art without permission | Patreon | RedBubble | Ko-Fi | Discord Server | All Links in the Bio!
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ts-sideblog · 5 years ago
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Marks and Rec: Misc #2088
(AP style can heck off; don’t @ me. :p) (Dialogue from this post.)
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ts-sideblog · 5 years ago
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🐍 
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ts-sideblog · 5 years ago
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It is a difficult decision.
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ts-sideblog · 5 years ago
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Omg I only just noticed Patton in the background. 😂
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He’s sneaky😏
Patton always finds somewhere to squeeze himself into and calls out to Virgil so he can come find him. After the first few times, it became a ritual for them.
Virgil never manages to catch the moment Patton disappears to go liquid.
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