find me elsewhere
$LAYYYTER
Three Goblin Art
todays bird
almost home
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titsay

izzy's playlists!
Mike Driver

Andulka

tannertan36
Sade Olutola

Product Placement

Kiana Khansmith

Kaledo Art
Claire Keane

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
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DEAR READER
Cosimo Galluzzi

Discoholic 🪩

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@stjern3
find me elsewhere
zeldaaa 💦
daddy wants to see yall on yall baddest behavior. lend me some sugar. I AM your neighbor.
Israel now controls 64% of Gaza Strip, up from 53% in October 2025 at the start of the “ceasefire”.
We are now trapped in the shrinking areas left for us, confined to less than half of Gaza with no real life left to live, no safety, no basic necessities, no future. We live among rubble and destruction while insects, rats, and disease spread around us. Israel continues destroying families, children, women, and the elderly with no consequences, while the world watches in silence. It feels as if they are only waiting for people to grow tired of hearing about Gaza so this horror can continue unseen.
And we are just one of those families, a father, a mother, and four children trying to survive this nightmare alone. Today, we depend entirely on donations to buy food, medicine, clothes, and the most basic needs for our children. This is not exaggeration or emotional wording; it is our reality. If donations come, we are able to survive another day. If they do not, we are left with nothing.
Please do not grow numb to our suffering. Do not let this world take away your humanity. Even sharing our story can help it reach someone willing to save a family or feed a hungry child. We are not asking for luxury, we are a family facing fear, hunger, and destruction every single day, pleading with kind people not to leave us alone in this slow death. Thank you to everyone who still sees the people of Gaza as human beings deserving of life.
This mother is pleading with you for her four children. They are living in dire circumstances due to the war in Gaza. Please amplify their voices to the world, and whoever can help should donate to them.
Food, medicine, clothes, safety, education… these are no longer normal things in our lives. We lost our home, our income, and any sense of stability. And now, like many families in Gaza, we survive almost entirely through the kindness of strangers.
Originally verified by Gazavetters #644.
New fundraiser link might not be added to the Gazavetters list yet.
Gazavetters is trusted because they are Palestinian run AND they call out spammers and scammers they find. Full list here.
Donations on Gofundme can be refunded for a Year so giving is low risk.
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No action is the only Wrong Action
☆Sunningzine and Tunnelzine Artist Spotlight!!☆ the zine is focused on The Prophecies Begin and the relationships between the Clans, and will be in support of WarChild UK <3 let's take a look at some wips from the artists...
☆@dunewindart ☆ Grunwaii ☆ StormCloud_Draws ☆ Powderseas ☆ Sunningzine and Tunnelzine will be releasing late summer!
meow (allegedly)
I have been saving this since last year. Happy Earth Day everyone.
literally has been in my queue for an entire year. you just can’t miss reblogging.
gotta queue this for next year too
the problem with the literacy crisis in the southern US/bible belt is that it's always a classist northern white liberal that's leading the discussion so nothing of value is being said
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.*
ivypool and absolutely no one else
my pet ant is going yandere for a crumb
to a degree i do sympathize with toby fox's desire to have His Vision realized in a way thats fully under control, but at a certain point you have to throw in the towel. saying you wont do an official translation of a language you don't speak but you're okay with fan translations that don't present themselves as official just means you are letting there be versions of your work that differ from Your Vision serve as the de facto version of the game for people who would otherwise not get to experience it with No oversight. and all of the labor that goes into making this happen has been hoisted off onto unpaid fans. although its not surprising to see someone who came out of the homestuck team not have any problem with that.
i have a lot of respect for him as a creator and he is entitled to his choices about what gets put out with his name on it, but i do think it ultimately boils down to being A Dick Move. one that shows a bizarre lack of faith in professional translator's hypothetical ability to meaningfully localize his work even with significant guidance.
you inform the average gamer that the gerudo of zelda are orientalist caricatures and they start acting like you just shot their wife in front of them
you try to tell people that Japanese people can, in fact, be racist, and are actually quite good at it, and they act like that's the most implausible thing they've ever heard
last night I met twilight sparkle in my dream and she looked like this
DON’T SCROLL… THIS MIGHT BE HER LAST POST.
DON’T FORGET HER. GOODBYE.
My sister has reached a dangerous stage of anemia due to malnutrition in Gaza.
donate for here and don’t leave them if she disappears.
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james and the giant pronoun
hi everyone im sorry to ask but i need a lot of help, my mom and i have been struggling with bills lately along with me having to pay a lot out of two credit cards to get my car fixed. i'm trying to find something that pays more but the job market in my area is basically dead. if you can spare a few bucks for a struggling trans girl it would be really appreciated
k-fi
C$P
thank you so much and intl happy womens day
hey guys this has slowed down a lot and i still need a ton of help if you can