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@theartofmadeline
roma★
official daine visual archive
Monterey Bay Aquarium
almost home
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Cookie Run:Kingdom Official!
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izzy's playlists!
Andulka
Doug Jones
cherry valley forever
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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
if i look back, i am lost
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Not today Justin
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@urfavhoneybae
One day you think: I want to die. And then you think, very quietly, actually I want a coffee. I want a nap. A sandwich. A book. And I want to die turns day by day into I want to go home, I want to walk in the woods, I want to see my friends, I want to sit in the sun. I want a cleaner room, I want a better job, I want to live somewhere else, I want to live.
ghost rider was my childhood and now that im goslingpilled you can tell how boggled i was over the announcement
I dont know if tumblr has seen this behind the scenes photo, but everyone has to see it because its amazing
i love this part so much theyre so stupid . look at them
”Ryland Grace’s life was valued less because he was single,” is such a weird take because it depends entirely on the idea that Eva Stratt might have hesitated if he weren’t.
Eva. Stratt. Eva Stratt is a bulldozer who takes out Antarctica and the Sahara and commanders an entire Chinese naval aircraft carrier.
Eva Stratt would have thrown his ass on that rocket if he had ten wives.
To everyone writing Henry letham fanfiction I hope y'all know I'm checking this tag hourly and every time I see a new post my will to live gets stronger. Henry needs more love fr and im consuming everything y'all make trust
👏👏👏
So--when I was in my mid-twenties and the Disaster Ex tried to make me kill myself, the local mental hospital didn't have any beds open in the usual ward for attempted suicides.
What they did have was a single spare bed in the small, comfortable, quiet, wildly expensive facility for girls with eating disorders.
They asked each of the young women currently living there if it was acceptable that I might occupy a bed in one of the rooms for a while, just the long weekend while I was waiting for a doctor's evaluation. I hadn't been violent, I had gone with the cops without putting up any fight at all, and I was still and I was small and all those things were sufficient for me to be deemed safe. So up they sent me, to somewhere high in Western Psych, above the smells and sounds of the denser-packed wards, above where the care workers were harried and frustrated, to a gentle space with seven or eight young women in it.
I was five foot three, and I weighed about 115 pounds. I was underweight for my frame, as a fair amount of that weight was martial arts muscle; I would probably have been ten pounds heavier if I were healthy, with the amount of activity I got.
I was at least two inches shorter than pretty much every other young woman there, six or seven inches shorter than one of them, and I had at least thirty pounds on several of them. The tallest was not allowed to walk, she had to sit in a wheelchair and be pushed around, because her condition was so advanced that the motion would undo what good her hard work had done.
And over the course of the four or five days I was there, multiple of them came up to me alone to quietly tell me that I had the *perfect* body, and they wished they could be as skinny as I was. That I needed to live, because I was beautiful, and if they were as beautiful as I was, they wouldn't need to be here.
Their eyes were on me all the time, in the hours that I wasn't sleeping. I spent a lot of time sleeping, and we took our meals separately (I not needing to be monitored while I ate, and not having my food weighed), but we spent a fair amount of time sitting around in the little shared living room space, talking about movies and magazines and books we'd loved, talking about our families. I didn't talk about my family; they didn't pry.
They were all so fucking nice.
And I could have broken any one of them over my narrow knee. They each thought they were bigger than I was.
Their brains lied to them, every time they looked at a mirror. Every time they looked down at their own thighs. What they saw was not what I could see. They had bright, beautiful eyes in dark hollows, and I could count their vertebrae, could see their ribs winging when they breathed, could see the motion of every tendon on the backs of their hands.
They weren't celebrities. They weren't being paid to have particular bodies, nor were they deep in the toxic sea of having strangers take photos of them to sell to gossip rags if they stepped out of doors in old jeans. They had families and loved ones who were doing everything that they could to protect them, to uplift them and help them be healthy. They were just everyday people--a nurse, a couple of students, a couple of recent college grads, a young woman who had decided it was time to really get help because she wanted to be a mother--and still they'd been so injured by the neverending fucking deluge of body-image bullshit that they were dying of it.
That was in 2009. Things are worse now. I think about them still. I hope that they're all right.
And in case some people aren't aware: anorexia is deadly. There is a point at which your body looses the ability to digest food and you are no longer capable of improving.
ok kids repeat after me
vinegar and bleach makes chlorine gas, which is highly toxic
ammonia and bleach makes chloramine, which is highly toxic
rubbing alcohol and bleach makes chloroform, which is highly toxic
hydrogen peroxide and vinegar makes peracetic/peroxyacetic acid, which can be highly corrosive
be careful about your cleaning products and dont get yourself injured or potentially killed ok
why it so dangerous to be clean
As someone who’s job is to handle chemicals like this, I need to state that this information is IMPORTANT. Plenty of people have accidentally injured or killed themselves at home because they didn’t know what kind of reaction certain substances have with one another. Play it safe and don’t mix chemicals.
Also don’t use bleach to clean up urine it’ll create chloramine bc of the ammonia in it and you can give yourself chemical pnemonia that way
Every time I see “helpful” posts telling people to mix these things while cleaning I cringe with my entire body.
reblogging in this time of heightened interest in disinfectants. please don’t get fancy
Pick one. Stick with that one.
Compilation of orca-themed stuff
you can make nearly any object into a good insult if you put ‘you absolute’ in front of it
example: you absolute coat hanger
as well u can just add ‘ed’ to any object and it’s sounds like you were really drunk
example: i was absolutely coat hangered last night
#i was gazeboed mate #i was absolutely baubled
Meanwhile, “utter” works for the first (e.g., “you utter floorboard”) but somehow “utterly” doesn’t seem to work as well for the second (“I was utterly floorboarded”).
Utterly doesn’t work for drunk because it’s the affix for turning random objects into terms for *shocked*, obviously.
… huh. I thought that might just be the similarity to “floored”, and yet “I was utterly coat hangered” does seem to convey something similar.
I have to tell you, I am utterly sandwiched at this discovery.
Completely makes the phrase mean “super tired”.
“God, it’s been a long week, I am completely coat-hangered.”
Something is
Something is wrong with our language
Is it a glitch or a feature?
Feature
@ august please be a little gentle with me I’m so tired
The Rotunda of the Hotel Budapest, 1970. From the Budapest Municipal Photography Company archive.
i spent 20 minutes to edit this meme which is great proof of how im feeling rn
No I think it's really great when a friend group of approximately twenty seven individuals spread out in the sidewalk as they walk so nobody has to walk behind the group. There's nothing better than when I'm trying to get home and I see the tableau of Jesus at the Last Supper gliding towards me like Jamiroquai in the Virtual Insanity music video and I have to decide who has the narrowest frame that I can shoulder-check my way past
Reblog and put in the tags the last full album you listened to
for the love of god, write all the self-indulgent scenes you want. be utterly shameless about including every last fantasy. i know everyone likes to share quotes and quips about how miserably hard writing is, but please please try thinking of it as a joyful act where you get to be a messy human who makes art rather than some pain filled quest for icy perfection.
“authenticity looks an awful lot like self-indulgence but it is the only way to find your true audience”
i got these knockoff boots online and instead of the brand name on the tag they have the name of an apparently nonexistent martin scorsese movie??? what the fuck
THE ORIGINAL? ON MY DASH
this post led to a series of events that had martin scorsese himself reacting to his alleged movie goncharov and it has less than 400k notes almost 3 years later?
