I cut the cake on my baby gender reveal party and the m&m’s are black. “It’s a goth!” we shout in unison. My family is sobbing. Morticia Addams is there,
listen to ‘no children’ by the mountain goats whilst looking @ this and cry
okay so i have no idea what i did to deserve fantastic (and canon) dersecest art and equally fantastic music in my inbox but i am so fucking grateful that its here
sophie, you are a kind and lovely and young and talented artist and i hope that as you grow you foster that talent and let it bloom even further because this is a wonderful piece of artwork and ur a wonderful human being
just. god. look at these perfect children in love. i adore this and i adore u
Belated realisations that make me feel very dense:
Early on in Homestuck, about 500 pages in, there’s a pesterlog between Rose and Dave wherein Rose improvises a short poem about buttfucking a muppet.
In response, Dave sarcastically refers to her as Emily Dickinson.
On the surface level, it’s a crude pun – he’s calling her “Dickinson”, and she was just extemporising about puppet dick.
However, I literally just noticed that her improvised poem happens to be in perfect iambic tetrameter – which is, in fact, the poetic meter in which Emily Dickinson most often worked.
daverosed 