[thoradvice]

tips to get your life back on track after a breakdown™

sleep. your body needs to rest. the average panic attack takes as much energy as running a half-marathon. let yourself rest. take a 20 minute nap. any longer and you’ll hit your REM cycle, and you’ll wake up worse off. after, you’ll feel so much better.

clean something. literally anything. a plate, a drawer, the whole mf bathroom. it doesn’t matter how much or how little. it’ll make you feel more in control, and it’ll make your surroundings more appropriate for recovery.

get some fresh air. even just opening your window for a few hours will help. if you feel up to it, take a walk. take your dog. pick some flowers. cloudgaze. even just sit in your garden for a bit. your body will thrive off of non-stale air. 

eat and drink. I know for some people, myself included, this is Hard. it’s alright if all you can manage is a granola bar, or some cereal. anything is progress and will fuel your body. drink water if you can, but anything apart from alcohol will hydrate you.

take a shower. I have clinical depression. have done since I was 12. I know how hard it is to take a shower. but it fucking helps. if you don’t do anything else off this list, do this. it’ll help more than you know.

talk to someone. I can’t stress this enough. humans are social creatures! we crave interaction. even the most introverted introvert needs to talk to someone. call your mom. text a buddy. skype your brother. chat to your local cashier. anything !! you’ll feel less alone, and hopefully get some good serotontitty flowing.

do something fun! same as above, it’ll make u feel so much bette, and provide a distraction. some good options are writing, drawing, watching a movie, dancing - anything you enjoy!

be kind to yourself. it’s okay if you relapsed, or if you had a bad day, or anything else. treat yourself gently. you wouldn’t so harsh to a friend in your situation. it’s gonna be okay.

if you can’t do all of these, it’s okay. there are better days ahead. this, too, will pass.

[ship-or-ick]

Evan Buckley x Tommy Kinard from 911

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Remaining time: 3 days 12 hours

[showtimechamaco]

🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈HAPPY PRIDE🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

(x)

[justphilosophical]

This is definitely on par with the original

[fuzzydoomsong]

I've noticed that most outlets are not mentioning his "partner," only mentioning his win, and the shows wins. And Connor. After the Oscar's, she was mentioned in every article. Just interesting to note.

[russianblush]

Best Lead Performer, Drama Series is....Hudson Williams!

[lgbt-tiktoks]

Description: [A video of a woman riding a galloping horse bareback while holding a large rainbow flag.]

[nattousan]

i felt like these tags really added to the experience, thanks @cynderxdustypaws for your knowledge

[pikestaff]

"Stop saying 15 year olds with weird interests are cringe, they're 15" this is true however you should also stop saying adults with weird interests are cringe because who gives a shit

[themythicalcodfish]

To wit:

[switchelsweets]

I want to share some wisdom from my high school art teacher.

In my AP Art class, there was a girl who was just starting to experiment with mixed media. At this point she was still playing around, trying to decide what direction she wanted to go with her portfolio. So one critique day, she brought in an abstract canvas with some rhinestone highlights and painted and real peacock feathers. She loved sparkles and peacock feathers so she thought she’d try introducing them a *little*. And after everyone had given some input, the teacher gave her his advice, VERY roughly paraphrased here:

“So here’s the thing… I do not like this style. These are just elements that do not speak to me personally, but I see that you like them, and you’re doing interesting things with them.

“My biggest critique is, I only merely *dislike* this piece. I want you to make me HATE it. Go crazy with the things that you like. Don’t hold back trying to make it palatable to people like me. Because I am NEVER going to like it. And if the audience does not like it, it should drive them crazy seeing how much YOU love it.”

Her portfolio was chock full of neon colors and glitter and rhinestones and splashes of peacock feathers and it was a delight. Our teacher despised every piece lol, but she got great marks and I think even won some awards. And more importantly, she was happy and proud of the results. Because she didn’t limit herself by trying to appeal to people who were never going to enjoy what she enjoyed.

Takeaway here: be as cringe as you want. Don’t limit yourself based on other ppl’s tastes. They’re not you, and you are incredible 💕

[magnuspeccatori]

This is the most inspirational thing I've read all week. Possibly all year

[explainslowly]

Happy pride!

Funny story, I went looking for this cursed fucking video recently and it seems like the cw scrubbed it from YouTube (curious, because videos from the same campaign for other shows are still up). However, they forgot to scrub it from Facebook, so you can enjoy it in it's all dogshit glory (image quality is whatever some weird Facebook video Downloader gave me)

Love loses ❤️🩷🧡💛💚💙💜

[francoisarnaudsource]

François Arnaud | 86th Annual Peabody Awards

[ship-or-ick]

Evan Buckley x Tommy Kinard from 911

Do you ship it?

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Remaining time: 3 days 12 hours

[tafkarfanfic]

The Fleece, the Parka, and the Problem with Awards Discourse: Canadian Screen Awards Edition

Costume design extends beyond mere aesthetics or labor-intensive crafting; it is about character and narrative expression. The distinction s

People often respond more immediately to costume design when they can see the labour. Period silhouettes. Corsetry. Embroidery. Fur. Beading. Armour. Fantasy. Historical reconstruction. Garments that announce, from across the room, “a costume department was here.”

And I understand that response. I’m from Saskatchewan. I know/know of more of the people involved in North of North. I know how rare and meaningful it is to see that kind of making, that kind of specificity, and that level of craft recognized. I am also a designer who can sew as well as I design, which is increasingly rare in this industry, and I have a huge amount of reverence for costume construction as a practice.

But handmade does not automatically mean better costume design.

More labour does not automatically mean clearer storytelling.

More visible craft does not automatically mean the costume is doing more for the scene.

Costume design is not simply the making of beautiful clothes. It is the construction of character, context, psychology, world, hierarchy, desire, concealment, transformation, and tension through what bodies wear.

Sometimes that means a handmade parka.

Sometimes that means a white fleece.

Sometimes that means a shirt travelling from one body to another and quietly doing narrative work the audience feels before they can articulate it.

One of the hardest things about contemporary costume design is that everyone thinks they understand it because everyone wears clothes. Viewers have lived through the trends. They remember the mall brands, the denim cuts, the athleticwear, the “wrong” shoes, the going-out tops, the aspirational basics, the quiet signals of class, sexuality, region, insecurity, masculinity, wealth, taste, denial, and belonging.

That makes the work harder, not easier.

With historical or fantasy design, the audience often accepts the world on its own terms. With contemporary design, the audience brings receipts. They bring memory. They bring personal taste. They bring, “I was there and nobody wore that,” or “my boyfriend dressed exactly like that,” or “that shirt tells me everything I need to know.”

Modern costume design has to survive recognition.

It has to feel invisible enough to be true and specific enough to be legible.

That is a brutal line to walk.

I was not aware of this awards controversy. This article was a really, really interesting and thoughtful piece.

[aaliyahsparrow]

"The Back of Pride Night", Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Scott Hunter [Hudson Williams, Connor Storrie, Francois Arnaud] from Heated Rivalry, the bonus rear cover from the [REDACTED] zine

Mar 2026

I messed up a few things with this one, mostly because it was going to have a big title text over the top of it. Shane and Scott's hands on Ilya's back look horrible (again, they weren't actually meant to be visible), and while I'm tempted to go in and change it, I'm not going to because hey, guess what? People make mistakes too. The little rainbow bit was a colour swatch from another part of the image, and I messed up the layers when I was overlaying it. If you know how hard it is to differentiate between 700+ colour layers, you'll understand my plight right now.

(Also, the first time I did this, I spelled both "Rozanov" and "Hollander" wrong and had to argue with my own brain even after I fixed it because I'd stared at it for so long they'd ceased to be words)

Please do not repost my work to other sites without permission

[pirenas]

Such a terrible idea, worst one I've had all this year But I can't ignore our obvious attraction I imagine how it ends, up in flames, we'll go again Seeking chaos, can't help giving in to passion

MADWOMAN by Laufey

[heatedrivalrysource]

PREACH girl! 🙌🏼 Rachel Reid talked about why women would like a series like Heated Rivalry so much, while accepting The Hollywood Reporter Women in Entertainment Canada Changemaker Award. “I don’t think it’s at all surprising that women would wanna see men being emotionally vulnerable, watch them yearn and struggle and hurt and grow, be kind and patient and loving..”

[kinardsevan]

if you ship bucktommy in any form, can you like/repost this?

I’m trying to see something.

[pimentogirl]

Merry Christmas @asphodelesauvage

There had been no Spring break.

No opportunity for Dean to muss Sammy’s hair, while offering to use Cas’ medical snips to give him a birthday crop.

They had missed each other’s graduations. Collecting their hard earned degrees seperately on opposite sides of the country.

Their plans to spend the few weeks before they set off together to volunteer abroad for the Summer spent in quarantine, apart, away from their home town family and friends so they could travel abroad.

Then the bitter disappointment when the trip abroad was cancelled even as they packed their suitcases. The last six months instead spent working, apart again, but this time at opposite ends of the country. Cas in a free clinic in Washington and Dean at a housing project in Houston.

There had been no fake beach party on Cas’ birthday, no hallowe’en bash at Charlie’s, no manic dash from Thanksgiving lunch at the Novaks to Thanksgiving dinner in the Singer-Harvelle household. 

Not even the chocolate behind each little door in the ridiculous bee-themed advent calendar Cas had sent him had sweetened the bitter drag of December. It was the only sign of Christmas on his bare walls. He couldn’t motivate himself to decorate this lonely apartment for Christmas. 

Dean parked Baby carefully in his assigned space and climbed the stairs, lunch box tucked under one arm. He might not need it for tomorrow, but no point leaving it in the car. Someone was playing Zeppelin. Well, fuck 2020, if that wasn’t the final fucking straw on Christmas fucking Eve. 

He stomped the last flight and pushed through the fire door, the opening riff of Rain Song floating down the corridor. Yeah, might as well fuck him over completely, “…it is the springtime of my loving…” echoing from the walls straight into his aching heart. 

It wasn’t until he opened the door to his own duplex and the volume abruptly increased that he realised the music was coming from his own stereo. He blinked disbelievingly at the subtle warm glow coming from his living room. The scent of cinnamon and ginger spiced the air and tiny lights hung back and forth from the rails on the mezzanine where his bed stood and to the ledge over the doors to his balcony. 

He didn’t notice the thud as his lunch box hit the matting in the tiny vestibule inside his front door or his work coat slipping from his shoulders. 

The tree he had not bothered to buy, shimmered and glittered under the weight of decorations he did not own. But that was not what he stared at. It had nothing on the gummy grin that faced him, nothing sparkled as bright as the bluest eyes to ever blue. He let strong arms slide round his waist and up his back, pulling him into a shuffling, dancing hug, and relaxed into the smell of home, feeling more than hearing the rumble of “Hello Dean.”

[welele]

La auténtica felicidad.

[the-forest-druid]

@joy-and-whimsy-official

[joy-and-whimsy-official]

Joy and whimsy detected! This post is joyful and whimsical!