Genuine Question.
How does one take their cat to the vet without having a full breakdown because the thought of my furry little jellybean being sick is distressing?
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Cosimo Galluzzi
styofa doing anything
almost home
Peter Solarz

★
Xuebing Du
RMH
YOU ARE THE REASON
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Sade Olutola

ellievsbear
Not today Justin

Andulka
🪼

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

Product Placement
d e v o n

seen from United States

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@therewrite
Genuine Question.
How does one take their cat to the vet without having a full breakdown because the thought of my furry little jellybean being sick is distressing?
There you are, I’ve been looking for you.
ambition is devouring her,
cracking and bending,
heart clenched and dripping
with poison greed and silver blood
the 3 am thoughts they say
are the truest a mind can form
her 3 am thoughts just say
when will I prove them all wrong
[ ode to slytherin ; r.c.s.]
hogwarts house aesthetics
gryffindor
extensive lipstick collections from deep red to light rosé, lonely gas stations at the side of the road at night, rose parfums, freshly picked blueberries, resting against a tree after running through the grass, walks along the seine, vintage pins and stickers, metro stations at night, red theater curtains before a show, hidden vinyl shops, cobbled streets in foreign towns, open windows, laughing until you cry, Polaroid pictures, golden jewelry, midnight swims in the sea, small french balconies, evening banquets, vintage cars, bubble gum, quickly attached plasters, living off the adrenaline, dramatic monologues, stop signs
hufflepuff
bouquets of lily-of-the-valleys, freshly pressed juice, yellow ballet dance costumes, crystal glass, pearl necklaces, rosé eyeshadow, white messy bedding, old renaissance paintings, golden light shining through white curtains, healing herbs, long sighs, botanical gardens at night, spring breeze, the smell of wood, natural history museums, bicycle rides across the city, jasmine perfume, phonographs, photography picture books, hand-made notebooks, big vintage glasses, ukuleles, self-care, sudden melancholy
ravenclaw
the sound of rain, black coffee, oxford shoes, studio ghibli movies, oversized sweaters, old postcards, piles of books, train rides, nights in the library, ancient buildings, foreign boulevards, staying up until 3 am, unfinished notebooks, typewriters, flea markets, overhead projectors, view from the 76th floor, “what if”, dripping sarcasm, black and white pictures in glossy magazines, addiction to anything, late night conversations, swearing under one’s breath, hotel swimming pools, thrift stores, foreign languages, poetry collections, detailed journal entries, writing in the margins, opera houses, black glasses, pressed flowers, lavender perfume, analog cameras, sculptures, the night sky, obsession
slytherin
dark eyeshadow pallettes, silver rings, green velvet, collarbones, tweed jackets, family heirlooms, wearing bruises and black eyes with dignity, the atmosphere of bathrooms at a party, dimly lit lounges, chandeliers, blue artificial light, forests, marble floors, intricate architectural structures, black lacquered shoes, fine fabrics, wine glasses, cobbled streets, theatre lounges, white ballet dresses, black tie, biting your lip, dedicated eyes, printed letters, exit signs, smoke, airplanes at night, skylines, trench coats, high heeled shoes, thunderstorms, mythology, long shadows
Caffeine bursts. oversized sweaters for comfort. Mindlessly writing down solutions on an inked parchment. Ambition conquering your thoughts. Working for victory. Illegible handwriting, illegible thoughts. noticing the string of profanities you utter, questioning everything that is and everything that is not. Fingers marked black with ink, pages marked deep wood with coffee. Reddened lips from the constant biting. Desire to win. Desire to prove yourself. Liking the hard toil which will be followed by the sweet success. Doing it for yourself.
One kiss at a time dear
My Queen is not my equal.
She will never be on the same level as me.
She is above me.
In all ways perceivable.
In pleasure
In honor
In power
In beauty
In law
In life
And in death.
For she is my queen above all else. And I am but a slave to her desires.
She flows through my veins. She reigns my kingdom. She owns my next stuttering breath. It is her to whom I owe my existence.
“The power of a glance has been so much abused in love stories, that it has come to be disbelieved in. Few people dare now to say that two beings have fallen in love because they have looked at each other. Yet it is in this way that love begins, and in this way only.”
— Victor Hugo
He walked into the flower shop with a mission. Find the fucking flower.
My hands were busy shifting soil when i heard the bell over the door ring. And in walked this contradiction of a man.
Black slacks and a shirt of grey silk had never looked more out of place than in my dinky little flower shop. Tattoos could be seen curling around his bones. Under the collar, over the wrists, around the ankles. An overgrown mass of, curly and thoroughly ruffled into submission, hair hung low over slanted eyes.
Do i ever know
Bruised knees and strawberries. Rays of sunlight peeking through the papery curtains of the motel and grey sweatpants. Bite marks on collarbones and lipstick stains on eyelids. Soft music to cold gazes. Cold Coffees and hot waffles. A roll of the eyes a slip of the tongue.
Don’t settle
“Be his queen. Don't settle for a prince when there's a king waiting for you.”
Such cliche sentences but I pause. Maybe there's some truth there after all.
Your Prince charming will come to get you in his car and there will be your favorite glazed donuts on the passenger seat. He’ll tell you you look beautiful in your ratty sweats and messy hair and kiss you. His breath will smell like coffee. He’ll text you sweet notes when you’re asleep, promise you dates in Paris and Rome, send you pictures of cats on your sad days and vow to rub your back when you have cramps. You’ll dream of him.
Your King the cliche rings so loud here it’s hurting my ears he’ll make you those waffles that you’ve been craving for a month, granted his recipe sources are pinterest, but they’re not half bad, mainly due to the three blueberries thrown on top. He’ll look at your shiny and swollen face and comment how good of night’s rest you seem to have gotten. His kiss will remind you to hit him on the head because you can tell he ate the remaining pizza from last night for breakfast. He’ll lay his head down in your lap when you’re reading your novel at night, google its ending and start rambling about what characters will die. Of course he’s lying because he likes it when you squeak in shock whenever there’s a plot twist in the book . He’ll take you to the bodega at the corner of the street where you buy the frozen shrimp mac ‘n’ cheese and diet coke. Ideal date night. He brings you unsalted popcorn on your bad days because you get munchy and will spiral worse if you feel bloated after eating heavy food. He brings a hot water bottle wrapped in a mauve towel to bed a day earlier than when your cycle is supposed to start, ‘just in case’ he mumbles. You won’t dream of him. You’ll dream alongside him.
I write because you exist.
Michael Faudet (via bnmxfld)
I’m cold beneath the sheets. You’re frozen under the skin.
“I am shy. Deal”
Your hesitant glances and your shaking hands are what keep me up at night. Twisting and turning. Tangled in the sheets. My curves are mountains meant to be climbed not at once. Rethink the decision before the hike. Give your all to me. I can’t guarantee your safety if your heart’s not in it. Think twice, think thrice before you start your journey because I am not something to be taken for granted.
But when you do take the first step, I’ll be there to hold you, to guide you. Don’t be scared my love, I’m willing to hand myself over to you. Just promise, the gentle touches and rough kisses, the mauve bruises and soft caresses will last as long as the mountains do? Till my last breath.
You are but a grain of sand
Never underestimate your worth my dear. You are the creation of the same universe which made the Grand Canyon. Your pink lips were what the cherry blossoms saw and decided to fall. Your eyes inspired the silt of the Nile. birds mimic your laughter and the stars learnt to twinkle from your eyes.
3 AM
I end up alone.
Ripped shorts and a crop top that's barely covering anything. Is she ever gonna bother dressing up?
Hands mussing up the oaky brown hair, chipped nail polish and a ring on the middle finger shines through her locks. Would she let me replace her hands with mine?
Knocking back shots as if her life depends on it. Well technically it wouldn't make any difference. It's not like her life is hers to take anymore. Could I ever be able to comfort her again?
The longest hand of the clock had almost crawled towards 3 when she'd finally lost consciousness and slumped over the bar. Am I ever gonna get tired of picking up her fainted form?
Placing her in the backseat, I drive her back to the hospital she snuck out of. She's never gonna forgive me is she?
Maybe she will. Maybe once she realizes the little bit of life she has left could be used to fight and not give up. Maybe once she's over with chemo, she'll let me take her out on a date. Maybe she'll fall in love with me. Maybe I'll kiss her. Maybe she'll live through it.
No. Probably not.
5 ways to win a heart
Cook for them. Anything works. From a three course meal to a cup of coffee with marshmallows in it.
Hug them. Tight. As if you’re leaving your own mark on them.
Know their tells. Know if they’re happy, sad, upset.
Indulge them. If they want to make cookies at 3am in pink socks then you do that.
Talk. Talk about the most insignificant thing that happened in your day and then in that same breath, tell them that you want to go to Paris with them.