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d e v o n

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Xuebing Du

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

izzy's playlists!

oozey mess
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
No title available
YOU ARE THE REASON
taylor price
i don't do bad sauce passes
almost home

JBB: An Artblog!

Love Begins
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

Origami Around
$LAYYYTER

#extradirty
Keni

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@caitward
drawn from x
Vending machine but it vends moss covered rocks, small opals, faux ivory brooches, mushrooms to plant, tiny sacks of dirt, seaglass, and gnome statues
Not to be dramatic but I'd die for this cat
Black cats are lucky. (via leahweissmuller)
MAN [IN THICK ACCENT]: Black cat bring good luck. Not bad luck. I have black cat - See, him face - And I am not dead today: Good luck!
I don't know who needs to hear this today, but consider: One of the hardest things you're going to have to reconcile with as you get better is that people are going to treat you differently when you rediscover your agency.
You're going to hear nasty shit from people who you thought loved you, when really what they loved about you was that you were more willing to put yourself second and others first.
So when someone inevitably tells you "You were so much nicer before you went on medication" or "You used to be so giving before you started therapy" don't fucking fall for it.
You used to be more giving because you were valuing others more than yourself.
You used to be nicer because you never stood up for yourself and said no.
You're taking care of yourself now, and you're recognizing other people's shitty behaviors and you're not falling for it anymore. That's not on you, babe, that's on them.
You're still giving and you're still nice, you just save it for the people who are worth it. And that's valid. Keep on getting better.
write a story about how you became the world’s most powerfull person… by accident.
You learn about the butterfly effect in school. The concept is interesting, but not so interesting that you don’t fall asleep partway through the movie. You hear something distantly about a butterfly beating its wings and hurricanes. You think it will never apply to you.
You know now (not then) that power comes through and from favors.
If you had known that then you would probably not have done so many.
(This is where it starts.)
One.
There is a strange creature crossing the road behind the lecture hall. You stop on your bike and frown at it. It looks a little like a turtle, but it’s limbs are longer than any turtle you’ve ever seen. It’s stretched out on the hot asphalt, long, pale limbs clawing forward towards the small stream that runs on the other side.
You hop off your bike and gently pick the creature up, hands under the belly of the shell like you learned from the internet.
Imagine your surprise when the shell slides off the creature instead, dropping a tiny woman onto the asphalt.
“Water,” she croaks, tiny eyes screwed shut. Her eyelids are the size of yours which means they’re huge on her. “Please.”
(You will not know until later what exactly please means to the fae.)
You feel yourself move through your shock. You pick her up and take her to the water’s edge. She slips under the surface, pale skin flashing like the scales of a fish, and she’s gone.
You’d wonder if your roommate slipped you something this morning if she wasn’t back a moment later, pushing a small rock into your hands.
“A boon,” she says. Her eyes are large and black, suited for her underwater world. “For a favor.” She smiles, showing teeth jagged and sharp like a piranha.
When you blink, she’s gone.
You stare at the rock in your left hand. It’s smooth and worn from years in water, an interesting swirl of granite and quartz. “I wish I knew,” you tell it.
The rock ices over so fast that you don’t have time to drop it. The frost swirls across your skin, burning you where it touches, and you watch in horror as your skin turns a mottled black and blue.
You fall to your knees from the pain and choke on a scream as the stone sinks into you, touching your bones and sending more ice through your marrow. It climbs up your arm and touches your eye, changing you vision so now that you’re see double, a strange, blue world juxtaposed next to the one you know and love.
Keep reading
I spent. all fucking day making this but I’m proud of it so! here! design a love letter, and I’ll tell you what mythical creature you are
🍯🍯🍯
x/x/x x/x/x x/x/x
srry man it’s been done
everything i love fails
dude get your fucking flashlight out of my face i can't see shit
i don't care if "my eyes are glowing" and "humans can't do that", turn off your fucking torch and stop screaming you idiot
Tweet tweet ✌️
Thinking abt trying to reconnect with my moms but i just KNOW they’re gonna try sending me on a quest and god knows i don’t feel like doing THAT
MAYBE i’ll do it if i can get some other folks on it MAYBE. Assuming my moms behave and don’t try to like, turn everyone into starlight and moon dew,
At what point do lost things become Lost? When do they lose that subtle connection that binds them to a name or place? I have heard that the court of cats claims all lost things for Themselves, but that is the way of Cats, and they are stranger than most Fae. So, to the common Gentry, when is something- or someone, open for grabs? I recommend never saying that you are lost to The Gentry. Never that word. Never give up a claim to yourself like that. After all, Finders Keepers.
Houston we have a problem.
safe names.
A safe name from the fae you ask for,
and a safe name you get.
There’s no substance behind the moniker
but you don’t feel safe yet.
Keep reading
mermaid
6/16/18
Bonus: Her kind prefers murky waters and can live in salt and fresh water, hiding under lily pads and seaweed.
this is how they lure humans.