I’ll not be here on the 17th and I don’t know if I’ll come back, those who follow me already know my AO3 and itch.io, I’ll see you all there if it comes to that

@theartofmadeline
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Today's Document
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
we're not kids anymore.
hello vonnie
Three Goblin Art

Origami Around
Sweet Seals For You, Always
One Nice Bug Per Day
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
taylor price
noise dept.

★

blake kathryn
🪼
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Kiana Khansmith
Jules of Nature
seen from Australia
seen from Uzbekistan
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seen from Italy

seen from Malaysia
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seen from India
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seen from Malaysia
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@solarpillar
I’ll not be here on the 17th and I don’t know if I’ll come back, those who follow me already know my AO3 and itch.io, I’ll see you all there if it comes to that
You are apparently the most powerful magical being of your time. But the thing is….you’re not. You spend the entire story trying to convince everyone that’s you’re not being humble, you’re genuinely not the person they’re looking for
the first time you tell someone that you’re not magic, they laugh. they tell you that you’re being humble. they act like announcing your utter lack of ability is modesty akin to a saint. they tell you that they’ll always believe.
‘don’t,’ you say. your hands are so empty. ‘don’t.’
they do.
—————————
the second time you say it, you say it over the crown of your best friend. he’s asking for a blessing on his way to the war. you’re so powerful, after all, a little magic on him isn’t anything you can’t afford to lose.
you whisper that, if you had any magic, it would all go into the golden strands brushing your lips. the sun catches on his shining hair.
he gives his hair away in chunks, that first month on the front lines. no one gets hurt. no one dies.
magic, they say. your hands shake when men bend at the knee to thank you for the small bits of blessing your best friend gave them.
you have not given them any part of what they carry.
———————————————————–
the third time you say it, it’s barely a whisper dropping from your numb lips. your best friend is gone, again, and your family is serving tea to the king’s knight, the highest ranking warrior in the land. he’s heard of you. he wants you by his side.
men are disappearing, he tells you, and not coming back. even if your magic is nothing more than words, they need it. they need it.
your family assures him it’s not words. it’s not words.
it’s power to change the world.
(the world is war. war doesn’t change.)
——————————–
the first time you feel magical is with the king’s knight, his hand in yours. he is looking at you like you’re the best parts of homecoming. he is looking at you like he loves you.
magic, you whisper into the lines darting across his palms. you’re magic.
‘no,’ he says, ‘darling, that’s you.’
you don’t correct him.
————————————-
(you have nightmares for a week. you don’t know why even he won’t believe you.)
(no one believes you.)
—————————————————————-
the fourth time you say it, you say it over your best friend’s grave. he’s been dead months while you’ve been playing wizard for the king’s knight. he’s been rotting in a cave on the front line, his own golden hair locked in his fists as if it could heal the blood sickness that took his life.
magic, they tell you, runs out on mortal flesh. not your fault. not your problem.
‘but, i’m not,’ you say into your lover’s chain mail. ‘i’m not.’
‘darling,’ he says, ‘it’s not your fault you are.’
—————————————————
you scream the fifth time you say it. the sky is dark with clouds and lightning. there is blood on the ground in front of you. your sword is black with it, dripping with carnage and death.
the king’s knight lies at your feet. he died believing in magic.
he died believing in you.
you scream because dying with belief in your heart doesn’t change anything. you scream because, even with magic, this war was always going to end here for the both of you. with mud sinking into the creases of your armor and the people you care about dead. dead. dead.
you scream and the sky screams back, a roar of thunder and the shriek of metal against metal. no one dares get too close to you in your grief and rage. no one dares get so close to the one who’s calling chaos from the rioting storm above them.
i wish, you say. the world trembles around the words. the ground buckles. you extend your hands out over the battlefield and let the first drops of hot, hot rain pull at the blood staining your skin. i wish no one had ever heard of magic.
your ghosts, your lover and your best friend, howl. they beg you to stop. they beg you to see how very full your hands are. they are full, for once in your life. they are full with golden light, trembling with the heat of the world held in your palms.
you don’t care. you don’t care.
i wish for all the curses to just be words, you say. the rain begins to pound down, whisking the sound of your voice into the depths of the earth. the soldiers around you clap their hands to their ears as if to block you out. they’ve already let you in when they came to you for magic. i wish for all the blessings to just be prayers. i wish the only shine in the wind came from the lakes and the rivers and the oceans.
darling, your lover’s ghost whispers. don’t.
but, just like he once did, you refuse to hear the word.
there are arrows raining down on you now, flaming arrows. they know what you are. they know what you’re doing. you invite the tips into your flesh and speak your final, damning words.
i wish love was enough.
the world rocks, arrows and flames racing across the bloodied ground. men are screaming, scrambling away from the fissures that open under their feet. just as suddenly, it stops. the rain stops. the screaming stops. the earth stands still.
magic disappears.
the story ends here, you know it does. when love is enough, there isn’t a need for poisoned apples. the prince kisses you of his own volition, without prophecy, without compulsion, without magic.
with love enough, no one needs blessings on golden hair or cursed swords. they just need each other. only that.
so maybe you were magic after all. because the second magic disappears, so do you.
it’s okay though. your ghosts come with you.
this is far from just coherent: it resonates
Don’t fuck with Quistis.
every now and again i have to remind myself this isn’t a shitpost, it really does play that way in-game
...isn’t the fancomic from the artist of the lesbian bondage webcomic what is the title of that again
Prairie is a love sponge
Love is stored in the chicken
worst bathroom to be drunk in
i already feel like i’m drunk as piss just looking at this
Have I told y’all about my husband’s Fork Theory? If I did already, pretend I didn’t, I’m an old.
So the Spoon Theory is a fundamental metaphor used often in the chronic pain/chronic illness communities to explain to non-spoonies why life is harder for them. It’s super useful and we use that all the time. But it has a corollary. You know the phrase, “Stick a fork in me, I’m done,” right? Well, Fork Theory is that one has a Fork Limit, that is, you can probably cope okay with one fork stuck in you, maybe two or three, but at some point you will lose your shit if one more fork happens. A fork could range from being hungry or having to pee to getting a new bill or a new diagnosis of illness. There are lots of different sizes of forks, and volume vs. quantity means that the fork limit is not absolute. I might be able to deal with 20 tiny little escargot fork annoyances, such as a hangnail or slightly suboptimal pants, but not even one “you poked my trigger on purpose because you think it’s fun to see me melt down” pitchfork.
This is super relevant for neurodivergent folk. Like, you might be able to deal with your feet being cold or a tag, but not both. Hubby describes the situation as “It may seem weird that I just get up and leave the conversation to go to the bathroom, but you just dumped a new financial burden on me and I already had to pee, and going to the bathroom is the fork I can get rid of the fastest.”
I like this and also I like the low key point that you may be able to cope with bigger forks by finding little ones you can remove quickly. A combination of time, focus, and reduction to small stressors that can allow you to focus on the larger stressor in a constructive way.
yo guys if you live in the US and use regular absorbency U by kotex sleek tampons please throw them away. they’re currently under recall in america because they’re coming apart in people and leaving pieces which puts you at a huge risk for toxic shock syndrome.
im gonna go ahead and plug the diva cup right now which i live and breathe by. i’ve never had any issues with it and i’m totally open to talking about it!
please be safe y’all!
Not just the US: the recall is in Canada, too. You can find out if any that you’ve purchased are part of the recall right here.
Marya Morevna, the warrior princess from a Russian fairy tale The Death of Koschei the Deathless.
Art by me.
Harold Perrineau as Mercutio in Romeo + Juliet (1996)
exquisite man. (no allo)
here’s a picture of a baby cedar waxwing begging for food from a robin. neither of these species are nest parasites, so it’s not possible the cedar waxwing was ‘adopted’. this is essentially the bird version of tapping a random person on the shoulder at the grocery store and going “MOM”
x
Photo by Greg Lasley
ill have you know hes trying his DAMN BEST
it’s the Boat-Billed Heron and it just kind of Looks Like That
there is no bad angle for a bird, only better
There might be hope for our oceans, thanks to one clumsy moment in a coral tank.
It typically takes coral 25 to 75 years to reach sexual maturity. With a new coral fragmentation method, it takes just 3.
Fill the fucking oceans WE gotta save corals
DUUUUUUUUUUUDE
so the thing that fish constantly do without thinking when eating the corals with their beak?
doesn’t change that this is good news, but I wonder if we can add certain fish into this equation to not just accelerate but also automatize the process
I had a terrible dream the venom symbiote’s eyes are actually its eyebrows
I fail to see how this could be bad
“Divine Fate” Deon Hinton, Dan Osahon & Znere Grace by Travis Chantar for FGUK Magazine #5
Keep reading
wonga pigeon
When the Boss Says, ‘Don’t Tell Your Coworkers How Much You Get Paid’
The HR manager tried to convince me that the offer was competitive. She told me that she couldn’t offer more because it would be unfair to other paralegals. She said that if we did not agree to a salary that day, then she would have to suspend me because I would be working past the allowed temp phase. I insisted that she look into a higher offer and she agreed that we could meet again later. Before I left, she had something to add.
“Make sure you don’t talk about your salary with anyone,” she said sweetly, as if she was giving advice to her own son. “It causes conflict and people can be let go for doing it.” (This is to the best of my recollection, not verbatim.)
It wasn’t all that surprising to hear this from a corporate HR manager. What was surprising was the déjà vu.
Just three months earlier, some of my coworkers at the coffee shop told me that our bosses, who worked in the office on salaries, and even the owner, got a higher cut of the tips than we did. One barista told me that when she complained about it, the managers reduced her hours.
When you make minimum wage and have to fight for more than 30 hours per week, tips are pretty important, so I sat down with my managers to discuss the controversy. That’s when they told me not to talk about it with the other baristas. The owner “hates it when people talk about money,” my manager added, and “would fire people for it if he could.” I sulked back to the espresso machine, making my lattes at half speed and failing to do side work.
In both workplaces, my bosses were breaking the law.
Under the National Labor Relations Act of 1935 (NLRA), all workers have the right to engage “concerted activity for mutual aid or protection” and “organize a union to negotiate with [their] employer concerning [their] wages, hours, and other terms and conditions of employment.” In six states, including my home state of Illinois, the law even more explicitly protects the rights of workers to discuss their pay.
This is true whether the employers make their threats verbally or on paper and whether the consequences are firing or merely some sort of cold shoulder from management. My managers at the coffee shop seemed to understand that they weren’t allowed to fire me solely for talking about pay, but they may not have known that it is also illegal to discourage employees from discussing their pay with each other. As NYU law professor Cynthia Estlund explained to NPR, the law “means that you and your co-workers get to talk together about things that matter to you at work.” Even “a nudge from the boss saying ‘we don’t do that around here’ … is also unlawful under the National Labor Relations Act,” Estlund added.
And yet, gag rules thrive in workplaces across the country. In a report updated this year, the Institute for Women’s Policy Research found that about half of American employees in all sectors are either explicitly prohibited or strongly discouraged from discussing pay with their coworkers. In the private sector, the number is higher, at 61 percent.
Damn managers have definitely told me this before
Always reblog
adding to this on the subject of medical/family leave:
a coworker of mine (and integral part of a voluntary team he and I are the sole members of) had to have foot surgery and was told he’d need six weeks to recuperate. when he went to HR they told him his best option was to resign and then reapply for his same job after his 6 week recovery time.
he originally asked them if he could take those weeks as unpaid time off, and was about to take their “quit and come back” offer because they made it sound like the only option. this would have cancelled the very same healthcare he was using to pay for the treatment in the first place.
this is a fairly common tactic HR managers will try to use to scare workers out of taking any leave at all, or force you to reduce the amount of time you are “unproductive.”
it is also illegal under the federal Family and Medical Leave Act - http://www.dol.gov/whd/fmla/
you are entitled to twelve full weeks of (unpaid) time off to care for a family member or to recuperate from medical conditions. the explicit qualifying scenarios are listed on the website above.
you are entitled to keep your job and return to your position on completion. any repercussion/dismissal from your company is illegal. do not get bullied out of your job for medical treatments you or a family member needs. if you are in a situation where you are being forced to quit for a situation that qualifies under FMLA you should contact a lawyer.
TO REITERATE: IT IS ILLEGAL TO BE FIRED FOR DISCUSSING PAY WITH FELLOW EMPLOYEES. IT IS A TYPE OF WORKER/UNION SUPPRESSION.
Note: NOT ALL EMPLOYERS AND NOT ALL EMPLOYEES ARE ELIGIBLE UNDER FMLA.
You have to have been at the employer for at least a year, working close-ish to full-time hours, AND there have to be x number of employees within y miles.
Specifically, it’s one year, in which you’ve worked at least 1,250 hours, which is actually about 25 hrs/wk. And 50 employees within a 75-mile radius of your office. (which, interesting side note, can mean that staff at a large company’s headquarters would be eligible for FMLA, but the handful of people staffing a small, remote location of the same company might not be if they’re far enough away from the company’s other worksites.)
Also, the law doesn’t exactly require that you be returned *to your position* - you must be reinstated to your position or a substantially equivalent one. Meaning similar pay, working conditions, type of work performed, etc. So when you get back they can move you from one office job to another, as long as the pay and benefits are equivalent, and you can’t do anything about that. But they couldn’t move you out to a warehouse job, because the working conditions and type of work are not equivalent.
Oh and since a lot of ppl apparently don’t know this, FMLA can be taken intermittently, in as small as 2-hour chunks, for treatment of chronic conditions. So if you get migraines, you don’t need to be off work for 12 full weeks at once, but it would be good to be able to take a couple days every few weeks when you need it without worrying about getting written up for taking too much sick time. And FMLA covers that as well, so if that’s what you need, ask for it.