$LAYYYTER
Cosimo Galluzzi
Claire Keane
YOU ARE THE REASON
JVL
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
oozey mess
★
styofa doing anything
JBB: An Artblog!
Janaina Medeiros
Cosmic Funnies
No title available
titsay
if i look back, i am lost
Stranger Things
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
izzy's playlists!
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
seen from United States
seen from Spain
seen from Colombia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Peru
seen from Venezuela
seen from Latvia
seen from Japan
seen from Gabon
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
@decidedly-indecisive-bruh
isn’t it creepy that from the day you are born you start to die
Actually! Fun fact!
If “starting to die” is defined as “cells start dying at a faster rate than they are replaced” then you don’t start dying the day you’re born! You’re still growing and cells are still being replaced pretty quick for about 22 to 25 years!
So 25. THAT’S when you start to die!
:D
Ask any 25 year old and they will confirm
This is true.
i can’t believe i used to think people my age were adults
the older you are reading this post the funnier it is
Harry Potter as a teen comedy…
maybe the best example of editing can portray a mood, tbh like this is really funny but it’s also just artistically amazing
i literally always reblog this because its soooo good
ALWAYS REBLOG.
I’m crying. ALWAYS REBLOG.
dawn dimmadome? wife of doug dimmadome, owner of the dimmsdale dimmadome?
actually she took the dimmadome in the dimmadivorce
Dang, that’s a dimmadamn shame
Life is an STD. Sexually transmitted and 100% fatal.
Living is not a fucking disease
Yet, it is one of the causes of every disease.
Isn’t the aliveness of viruses actually a hot debate topic?
From Kasia Babis.
whenever someone is like ‘why do burger-flippers deserve to make the same amount as x?’ and i just ask ‘have you considered that maybe x deserves to be paid more?’ because it never occurs to people that if these people are being underpaid, then there is a chance that so are they.
I see this all the time with people bringing up paramedics. “You want 15$ an hour as a burger flipper! I made less than that as an EMT!”
Yeah and it was wrong to pay YOU that little too. You got overworked and underpaid and the amount of money the McDonalds employee in the drive through gets has no bearing what so ever on what an EMT makes. Pay the EMT more too.
it distresses me that anyone whose job it is to save my fucking life is making less now than i was in an office job in 2007.
Me_IRL
The thing about knitting is it’s much harder to fear the existential futility of all your actions while you’re doing it.
Like ok, sure, sometimes it’s hard to believe you’ve made any positive impact on the world. But it’s pretty easy to believe you’ve made a sock. Look at it. There it is. Put it on, now your foot’s warm.
Checkmate, nihilism.
This is a powerful positive message..
I’m literally reading a book right now (Burnout by Emily and Amelia Nagoski) that says this is scientifically sound.
There have been studies done on rats and dogs where they develop learned helplessness in the animals by giving them impossible tasks. Eventually the animals stop trying, even when the task stops being impossible. (I.e. put a rat in a maze with cheese it can’t get to until it develops learned helplessness, then put the cheese somewhere it can get to it and it won’t even try.) But once they show the animals they CAN do something - i.e. physically moving the rat to the cheese - the learned helplessness goes away.
No one can move you to your cheese for you, but the book says DOING something - which they define as “anything that isn’t nothing” can help. Make a food. Work in the garden. Clean a thing. Do a favor for a friend. Call your elected officials.
Knit a sock.
If you feel overwhelmed by existential despair, do something. It doesn’t have to be big. It just has to be anything that isn’t nothing.
Bruh the struggle was real even for cartoon supervillain ducks from the 1990s
Snippet request: maybe a m/m piece between a demon and a werewolf right after a full moon? No obligation to work on this, and btw i love your writing <3
He woke up in the demon’s familiar quarters, as he always did after a full moon. It was a sumptuous place, surprisingly clean and well-lit compared to what one would expect from hellish creatures.
The demon pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “How are you feeling?”
“Human.” It wasn’t quite the question asked, but it was accurate enough. He felt the same as he always did at this time of month - sore from his body being ripped apart and pieced into two different jigsaw puzzles in such a short amount of time, and as ever immensely fuzzy on what exactly he’d got up to in the moonlight. “What happened?”
“You know I can’t tell you that.”
“You know I have to ask.” He sighed, rolling into the demon’s side further and nestling his head on the warmth of his chest. The demon’s arm curled tight around him, keeping him together or so it felt. It always felt so right.
There were no mysterious injuries on this new moon, at least. He felt the normal ache of turning, none like he’d been mauled and scrapped with something nasty. That was something.
Like all werewolves, his moonlit hours were devoted to serving the moonlit demon. All the old stories would tell a man of the lunacy of moonlight, the way that it called to witches in the thrall of devils. His personal suspicion was that his particular servitude involved protecting the demon beside him. This was probably a conflict of interest and he probably didn’t care in the slightest.
In return, he was stronger than any human could ever be. He could turn at any time of the month if he wanted. It was how his family had always worked. Demons in and out of the house at all hours; the gift of lycanthropy in return for favours.
It was only on the full moon that he had no choice in the matter, no memory, no part of himself involved. A debt of blood collected.
“Easy,” the demon murmured against his hairline. “You’re okay. It was okay, I promise.”
“You’re a demon, your definition of okay is creative. And I don’t think you’d tell me if it wasn’t.”
“I’d never let anything bad happen to you.” The fierceness of the demon’s voice surprised him, and he glanced up.
The demon’s brow furrowed, studying him intently.
He blinked. His mouth went a little dry at that stare, at that conviction, his heart doing some warm and fluttering so very different from the cool touch of moonlight. “Oh,” he said. “Have you told your mother that?”
His mother, demon goddess of moonlight and madness.
The furrowed brow turned to a full on frown.
Yeah, he could imagine that she wasn’t entirely thrilled by the thought of her son…whatever this was…with the staff.
“Please don’t bring up my mother when we’re in bed,” the demon said.
He snorted and managed to take a breath, before leaning up to press a kiss to the demon’s - his lover’s - mouth. Maybe he could add that to his definitions of whatever this was, along with I’d never let anything bad happen to you. That meant something, right?
“I’ll let get you some breakfast,” the demon murmured, stroking his cheek. “You must be ravenous. Your clothes are on the side.”
He caught the demon’s wrist as he shifted from beneath him, heart abruptly hammering.
The demon’s head tilted.
“Are we…that is…we’ve been friends for a while,” he said.
“Friends? Is that what we’re calling this?”
“What are you calling this?”
“Us.”
“That’s not a very helpful definition.”
The demon stared at him for a moment again, before settling down again on the bed. “It’s a good definition for you, it doesn’t involve any contracts. You don’t want another contract with a demon, I don’t think.”
On the other hand, it was far too early in the morning to have this conversation. And he supposed that was sweet, even if it would have been nice to be able to say ‘boyfriend’. But then he supposed he couldn’t exactly invite the demon prince of moonlight to his work party either. Could he?
“So no strings attached.”
“No strings attached.” The demon smiled, and pressed another kiss to his mouth, cold as the night sky and just as dazzling. Then he went to fetch breakfast in bed, the nice things that he always did since this ended up starting and he’d first began coming here when he woke up after a full moon.
Hell, but he really wanted strings attached.
not a pr0mpt
Dormant Predators
One sentence horror story
Has……has he tried knocking……..or……a doorbell?????
eve polastri in every episode ☰ s2e01: “do you know how to dispose of a body?”
i bought a shit ton of really expensive windows.
he really did just call him up and say she’s gonna fuck the fishman didnt he
Botticelli’s Venus in the Festival of Lights in Lyon
Website
Ophelia by Michael Talbot.
