(also, stop buying art from target and ikea and Home Decor stores.

please just stop.

if you want a basic something or other for your home, and you have one person in your life who knows how to draw/make/paint things. Ask them if they wouldn't mind painting a picture of a sunset or creating some abstract squares etc for you. and pay them. not target.

i can almost guarantee they will say yes.)

Febuwhump Day 19 - Please don't Please stop

From The Prince of Thieves:

I don’t have time to savour the fleeting thrill of hearing someone who isn’t Baden Hatchett say my name. In an instant, he strides toward her, and a crack fills the room. Bree’s head whips to the side; the back of Hatchett’s hand comes away painted with blood.

Hatchett is still, not even seeming to notice the blood on his hands. “At least we can both admit when we’ve made a mistake,” he says softly. “I wish I’d never laid eyes on you, or on your pathetic drunk of a father. Agreeing to his offer was, perhaps, the most foolish thing I have ever done.”

…instead of just running away.

I was to be married. I chose differently.

“What the fuck.” The only words I can possibly say.

Bree’s eyes turn toward me.

And then they’re back on Baden Hatchett. “Stop hurting him.” Her head dips, hangs, goes still. “Please. Stop. Just leave him alone.”

“Oh, you miserable little witch,” Hatchett says. He lifts her chin. “So faithless, so treacherous—a whole lifetime of it. You’re begging for him again, and yet you have been keeping such wicked secrets. You didn’t tell him about the betrothal.” For the tiniest instant, he looks at me. “Did you tell him about your sweet little betrayal?”

I need someone to tell me to go to sleep early.

It's not even 21:00 yet but I am exhausted and I know it's the best option and I should just wake up early tomorrow instead of staying up for no fucking reason

i made specific 310 critters for @fluff-bunnycat and i... these are more of the, “Ah, yeah, that’s what i look like,” vs the actual sphinx 310 i’ve done (which are still leopard/treeshew, FYI) ...

do Not ask me where ou’s ears are bc idfk. he accidentally became really froglike w the lack of external ears + webbed feet. 

The urge to ask if someone is okay with/would like something when They are the one who Suggested it Sounds like it shouldn't be that hard to suppress and Yet

Damien , do you think that talking animals like the blue hedgehog are superior to humans too? I mean they are pretty much humans in all but appearance, especially that hedgehog.

Heads up that we had to remove the list of ships for the cA AU because we got mmmore than a few inflammatory and rude asks in a row. That was originally there to help people avoid triggers, but unfortunately, a few bad apples ruin things for everyone else. by the by, do not send OOC asks asking us about an OOC page and expect an IC response. :/ 

Please do not judge negatively any media I genuinely like because 80% of the time I will be on board with whatever you say just because I can't express myself and then spiral in self doubt.

"This fic was ai generated—" Cool, so lemme block you real quick

reblog to bonk prev with yr forehead like a cat

Remember the 6 year old girl who was surrounded by Israeli tanks and the red crescent couldn't reach her? Her name is Hind Hamadeh. Here you can hear the phone call her 15 year old sister, Layan Hamadeh, made with the medics. She was killed exactly a moment later including all people in the car, except for 6 year old Hind who was stuck in the car with the dead bodies of her family, Israeli tanks and IDF surrounding her, shooting, preventing anybody to reach her.

That was last night (29.1.24). Today, still nothing. The fate of Hind remains unknown.

palestine red crescent ambulance team went to rescue her yesterday evening, but they have not returned as of now. We lost contact with them about 18 hours ago, and we still remain unaware of their fate and whether they succeeded in evacuating her or not.

Please, share Hind's story as much as you can on any platform. We need to know what happened to her. Put yourself in her place, how terrified she must be. Don't scroll past this.

This is Hind.

What we need to do is convince all the disney adults in america that high speed rail would be a preferable way of getting to disneyworld compared to driving or flying. We could maybe harness their fondness for the monorail or something, but this is a group of people that has time, income, and passion that we could leverage. If we could direct 5% of the enthusiasm they have for limited edition popcorn buckets into calling their representatives and demanding high-speed interstate rail, we could get it by 2030

don't give up

You can only reblog this today.*

*PLEASE READ THE TAGS

because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.

you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.

you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.

don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.

if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.

you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:

how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!

aren't you happy yet?