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noise dept.
𓃗
Color Me Curious
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
#extradirty
Origami Around
Not today Justin
NASA
🩵 avery cochrane 🩵
shark vs the universe
occasionally subtle
Love Begins
d e v o n
Discoholic 🪩
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
The Stonewall Inn
Doug Jones
seen from South Korea
seen from Malaysia
seen from Colombia
seen from Netherlands
seen from India
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Colombia
seen from Bangladesh
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United Arab Emirates
seen from Singapore
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Philippines
seen from Uruguay
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Bangladesh
seen from United States
seen from Indonesia
@birdybabybird
Knowing Hadestown is essentially a time loop really puts certain things in a new perspective.
Like in “Come Home With Me,” Eurydice asks Hermes if Orpheus is “always like this?” and Hermes says “yes.” Now Eurydice thinks Hermes means that Orpheus is like this with every girl (hence why she calls him a player), but what Hermes meant was is that Orpheus is always like this but only with Eurydice.
like the point is eurydice signs the contract so that she can survive. she's hungry and cold. and hades promises food, shelter, safety, even comfort. but she still doesn't get what she's after because it kills her. we submit to the capitalism machine because we need food, we need somewhere to lay our head in order to be people, but it strips away our personhood anyway.
On the road to hell there was a railroad car...
quote from the prelude to "sleep" performed during my chemical romance's "long live the black parade" tour
instagram: (x)
queen of hearts!
I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love - G3 Scootaloo
Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge - G1 So Soft Flocked Twist
The Black Parade - G1 Princess Tiffany
Danger Days: The True lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - G1 Starglow
MCR albums x vintage My Little Pony
Inspired by @mylittleplaylist, I just had to do my own picks of these!
HAPPY FOURTH OF FUCKING JULY
Me: "Damn people are REALLY BAD at knowing when to tag their eyestrain art/images...either that or they just don't care about photosenitive epileptic people like me. I feel really sad now." Person: "But Allison, what if they just don't know or understand what qualifies as eyestrain and what doesn't?" Me: "You know what? That could be a factor...While it is always better to be safe rather than sorry (so YES people should always tag eyestrain even if they're unsure if it "counts" or not) maybe you've got a point?"
Anyways! HERE'S YOUR HANDY GUIDE TO WHAT CAN COUNT AS EYESTRAIN! I'm pulling this straight from the Artfight rules page about what needs to be labeled and filtered as eyestrain because it's VERY helpful and VERY accurate! I also know not everybody has an AF account and might not always have access to this handy guide, and this is an important resource; That's why I'm sharing it here! (under the cut)
PLEASE TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY!!! THIS IS ABOUT THE HEALTH AND SAFETY OF OTHERS!!!
by the way this is medical. this could save somebody from a migraine all the way to a seizure. this has always been serious. treat this seriously.
a comic about tattoos
no amount of tiktok essays are gonna convince me celebrating milestones for album is considered selling out that’s my babygirl birthday we’ve got cake and presents and new merch what do you have a bad attitude?
i love polyamory i love aromanticism i love QPRs i love communal child rearing let’s all get weirder forever
itty bitty vampires 🧛 (x)
really enjoyed the vibe whiplash of playing as ethan vs playing as mia in that one flashback
Early sunsets over Mornoeville
My three girlfriends. And yes, they smoke weed.
do they smoke weed?
Yes, actually.
you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette?
It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,)
They don’t look like they smoke weed.
Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad.
Your “weed smoking girlfriend” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle.
I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING
Well that escalated quickly……
What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body*
haha oh my god
who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes.
love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”.
and let’s not forget the “Blaiz” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”.
“the goo pile that is now your body”
i’m dying over here, jesus
please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun.
*shoots you dead* Heh, idiot… *leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.*
this dude playin omg
Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you. I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.* Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*
Happy 420
Happy 420
happy 20 year anniversary of Neil banging out the tunes!
though every rat is special, it's a wonderful and unusual thing for their accomplishments to be remembered and cherished by so many people so many years later. we're all so fortunate to know about the rat who banged out the tunes!
thank you to all the people who sent me reference photos of their beloved rats for this piece!!! credits under the cut!
