Wade nodded at the boy's admission. Man, he was reminding him more and more of himself at that age with every cocky word that came out of his mouth. "Uh-huh. Okay. Because he deserved it or because you felt like beatin' up on yourself? Or rather... havin' someone else beat up on you? I get it, kid. I was your age too, once, you know. But if no one's tellin' you this lately, you don't deserve to get knocked around. You're enough, just the way you are."

God, he wished literally anyone had told him that when he was this boy's age. Even so, he left the conversation at that, not wanting to make the kid uncomfortable. If he was as defensive and insecure as he seemed underneath all that nonchalance and bravado, the worst thing Wade could do was make him feel like he was being coddled or something. He smiled as the kid explained what a jerk the other had been. "Okay, so then maybe he did deserve it," he said with a wink.

"No problem," Wade said. Something about the way the kid had readily accepted his offer tugged at his heartstrings. How hungry was this kid, and how bad was his home life that that was even a thing? He watched as the boy eyed this food and that one, all the sugar and fat a kid could want, taking note of what things made his eyes light up the most.

"Yeah, it's cool, whatever you want." Seeing the look on the boy's face, Wade was quick to not make it about charity, so he wouldn't get his back up about things again. "There's way too much good shit here, there no way you can pick just one thing. Hey, you want onna those donuts too? You gotta have dessert or it's not really a full meal, right?" he said with a casual shrug.

Wow, call him out much? The teen avoided the dude's gaze, cheeks flushing. "What, are you a shrink or something?" You don't deserve to get knocked around. You're enough. Rockland felt a pang in his chest. He could think of several people who seemed to feel otherwise. "You don't know me, you're just seein' what you wanna see." But he got it, supposedly. Maybe he'd felt the same way, growing up.

"Okay, so then maybe he did deserve it." A wink was tossed his way, and Rock shrugged, noncommittally. Whatever he wanted? This guy did realize he was talking to a teenage boy, right? He could probably clear a shelf with his appetite. So he set up his own limits. A brow was quirked, however, at the mention of donuts. Well, if the invitation was right there...

"... yeah, alright. You've got a point. You want me to grab you one while I'm there?" He was already walking in the direction of the case as he asked, scooping up the pair of metal tongs and leaning his cane against the case ledge as he picked out a paper bag. Aw man, how was he even supposed to pick? Hmm... A couple moments' observation and Rock decided to go for one just full on decked out in Twix. He looked over at the guy, awaiting his choice, if he decided to go for one.

A snake story, based on an experience I had while I was in Florida.

Happy raccoon noises

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FILL THE ASKBOX

send in curious anons to the muse

OMG the backstory behind the whole boop thing is amazing.

What a surprisingly touching story! I thought it was just about cats being silly.

*And support a struggling artist pay rent on time!

These flowers Won't Wilt!

Soulmates In Starlight, Fairy Princesses;

Flower Moon;

Malciously Deranged Violets, Believe Me Love It Was the Nightengale;

Mineral Meadowcore, Childhood Crushes, Enduring

Hopes, Precariously Poised

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“My dog and his favorite plushies”

(via)

In many cultures, ethnic groups, and nations around the world, hair is considered a source of power and prestige. African people brought these traditions and beliefs to the Americas and passed them down through the generations.

In my mother’s family (Black Americans from rural South Carolina) the women don’t cut their hair off unless absolutely necessary (i.e damage or routine trimming). Long hair is considered a symbol of beauty and power; my mother often told me that our hair holds our strength and power. Though my mother’s family has been American born for several generations, it is fascinating to see the beliefs and traditions of our African ancestors passed down. We are emotionally and spiritually attached to our hair, cutting it only with the knowledge that we are starting completely clean and removing stagnant energy.

Couple this with the forced removal and covering of our hair from the times of slavery and onward, and you can see why so many Black women and men alike take such pride and care in their natural hair and love to adorn our heads with wigs, weaves, braids, twists, accessories, and sharp designs.

Hair is not just hair in African diaspora cultures, and this is why the appropriation and stigma surrounding our hair is so harmful.

As someone who has been living with severe suicidal ideation my entire life I wanna tell you all something, you don’t have to stay alive for yourself. People will say it’s a bad idea to live for external things because they’re temporary, and it’s true living for yourself is ideal but if you’re not to that point yet that’s ok too. 

I’ve lived for my dog for the past 4 years, before that I lived for my snakes, before that I lived for my cat. You can live for whatever needs you and whatever matters to you. Live for your best friend, live for your plants, live for your pets, live for your animal crossing town. Live for whatever keeps you alive and the day will come when you can live for yourself.

This is something everyone should see. Thank you for sharing this.

Transformers kept me alive. When the 2007 movie was announced I was going through an incredibly hard time emotionally. I saw the preview and every time I thought about killing myself I thought, “but then I won’t get to see this thing I’ve always wanted to see, good or not.” And it got me through.

I’m in a place where I live for myself now, but don’t toss away a life preserver just because other people think you should be able to swim on your own.

don’t toss away a life preserver just because other people think you should be able to swim on your own

An amused smirk met the dramatic introduction. He gave a little wave. "Rockland." So he was the owner. How did he come up with such wondrous ideas? He was like an author, crafting a world of fantasy from scratch, except he was bringing his ideas to life through chocolate. The teen glanced up at the other workers, giving them a nod of acknowledgement.

How was this guy surviving, when he was giving so much of his stock away? Rockland certainly wasn't complaining, he was just curious, and hoped others' wouldn't take advantage of his generosity. Maybe it was just for their grand opening of sorts? Or maybe this guy really was magic, and could just pull chocolate from his hat. He took the offered flower with his free hand, the other grasping the handle of his own walking stick. "Wow, thanks." It was really pretty, seemed almost sad to eat it, but he hardly hesitated, nibbling on one of the petals. The chocolate melted over his tongue, revealing... His eyes lit up. "Is it... some kind of fruit? Berry?" He swallowed the bite.

Rockland quirked a brow at Wonka's apology, but didn't comment. Allowing the other to guide him to a quieter area, he found some of his nerves eased. He adjusted his tone, at the others' request to repeat his question, speaking up a bit. "I was wondering if you have any chocolate to help with bad dreams... I-I dunno if that's a thing, I just... if you can make people fly- which, definitely interested in that, by the way-" His serious tone broke into a playful little smile, before he shrugged again, "thought maybe it was a possibility?"

"Rockland! Never met a Rockland before, though now I suppose I have!" A bright smile warmed his features, committing the boy's name and face to memory. He prided himself in being able to remember the names of most everyone he met. It was sort of his special skill. Aside from the chocolate-making, of course.

Wide-eyed, Mr. Wonka gave a nod as he watched the boy's expression change, brows quirking upward in encouragement. "Not just any berry," he mused, "Blue raspberries plucked from the wild berry fields in Russia," he beamed.

He leans forward a little as the other speaks again, glad when he chooses to speak louder. Now that they had sidestepped their way out of the crowd, he could hear him much better! Brows furrowed on the young chocolate-maker's face as he processed the question from the boy. He stood straight again, fingertips tapping against the golden bulb atop his cane in deep thought. His gaze lifts to the ceiling for a brief moment before returning to the teenager.

"Chocolate to help with sleep, eh? I'm sure I've got the right ingredients for something like that..." Did he have it pre-made? No. It wasn't exactly something people often came looking for. Most people wanted more exotic wonders--flight, hair growth, choreography. There were many medicines that could help one sleep, though, so it seemed a simple enough concept to make a chocolate do the very same. Perhaps something a little gentler than the Big Night Out, he thought.

"Come with me..!" Before the other can even respond, the chocolatier is spinning on his heel and heading over toward the counter at the back of the shop with incredible speed and eagerness. "Lottie? Pass me my travel-factory, would you?" It would be the quickest and easiest way to whip something out for the boy. Here and now!

"Yeah it's uh, it's not the most common name. Don't think I've met a Willy before either. Well, William sure, but Willy?" He shook his head. This guy was sure chipper. Rock couldn't tell if he was just putting on his customer service face or if he genuinely was this delightful, but if it was a false face, he sure was a good actor. And if it wasn't? Nobody better mess with him or the teen would tell them off.

"Blue raspberries? They're a real thing? Not just... a flavour made for candy?" He'd only ever seen blue raspberry as things like slurpee flavours. He couldn't ever recall seeing a real blue raspberry in a store. "How did you find out about them? When did you go to Russia?" That was quite a trek. He bit another petal from the flower, and let the chocolate melt on his tongue.

He could practically see the gears in the young man's head turning. A nod met the question, and then, hold up- ingredients? "Oh- okay, but," Rockland followed suit, hurrying after the chocolate maker, "How-how much is it, for custom chocolate?"

‘Keep Your Cat Indoors’: Why Conservationists Are Pushing for Pet Containment in Australia

What’s the problem with pet cats?

Domestic cats have impacts on native wildlife in two ways, says Prof Sarah Legge of the Australian National University. “One is that they hunt themselves. They hunt at a lower rate than a feral cat, but because pet cats live at really high density in towns and suburbs, the predation toll per square kilometre is actually much higher than it is out in the bush.”

Her research has found that pet cats kill up to 50 times more animals per square kilometre in urban areas than feral cats kill in natural environments.

“The other pathway is if we have a lot of pet cats that are not desexed, then there’s a risk that unwanted litters keep contributing to the feral cat population,” Legge says.

Modelling Legge has done for the Invasive Species Council suggests that roaming pet cats kill 546m animals per year in Australia, of which 323m are native.

“Most pet owners don’t think their cat is the problem, but the evidence is that nearly all roaming pet cats hunt and kill our native wildlife,” says Jack Gough, advocacy manager at the Invasive Species Council.

An estimated 71% of all pet cats in Australia are able to roam – of this figure, 78% of roaming cats hunt. Most animals – an estimated 85% – killed by pet cats are not brought home.

“For every dead lizard or bird you find on your doorstep, another four have been left out in the bush,” Gough says.

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Do not punish the behaviour you want to see

I mean, it seems pretty obvious when you put it like that, right?

But how many families, when an introvert sibling or child makes an effort to socialize,  snarkily say, “So, you’ve decided to join us”?

Or when someone does something they’ve had trouble doing, say, “Why can’t you do that all the time?” (Happened to me, too often.)

Or any sentence containing the word “finally”. 

If someone makes a step, a small step, in a direction you want to encourage, encourage it. Don’t complain about how it’s not enough. Don’t bring up previous stuff. Encourage it.

Because I swear to fucking god there is nothing more soul-killing, more motivation-crushing, than struggling to succeed and finding out that success and failure are both punished.

Encouragement and acknowledgment are so much more effective than punishment.

Wade had to admire the kid's spunk. Despite his obvious setbacks, he was still holding his own well enough, and Wade respected him for that. "Someone who stands up to bullies," he replied to the kid with a shrug. "I'm guessin' this wasn't the first time that waste of space messed with you, right? So you knew the deal and took the first shot. Listen, sometimes you gotta handle yourself. I get it. I don't fault you for that. I was there plenty of times as a kid too, so I know how it is."

The way the boy lit up at the idea of getting something to eat without having to pay... it tugged at Wade's heartstrings quite a bit. "Yeah, I'm serious. I just got paid a little bit ago, so whatever you want, I'm buyin'. Okay? Let's get outta here," he said, starting to head to the 7-Eleven. He didn't go too fast, hanging back in case the kid needed help, but he didn't rush to help him like before. This kid had a lot of pride, Wade was learning, and he didn't wanna step on it.

Once they'd gotten inside, Wade waved to the counter. "It's all you, buddy. Order whatever you want, grab some chips, get a drink, whatever. I got you covered," he said. The boy seemed to think this was either strange or so nice that it couldn't be true, so he figured some reinforcement might help get over the disbelief hump.

Huh. Interesting take. "Actually, I sought out his attention. Gave him the finger. Felt like getting into a scrap." The last part slipped out before he could bite his tongue, and man that felt a little too vulnerable for his liking. He just felt like this guy had the wrong idea. That the group had cornered him, unprompted. Still, he wasn't entirely incorrect. "It's not all black and white, but yeah, Shacks? He's an asshole... and yeah, there's history there. 'don't fault Archie, though- the one who conked me." Man, his nose was still throbbing. The kid wasn't typically much of a fighter, but he could punch.

Whatever he wanted? "Sweet, thanks." That gratitude came easier. He followed behind the man, footing a bit stiff, but managing alright, all things considered. His knee felt... squeaky? Sharp. With every step. Almost like a kink in the neck. But it wasn't the worst he'd dealt with. He did his best to focus in on the food once they stepped inside. The smell of grease and coffee wafted through the air. Oh man, there was so much to choose from, and it was cheap. He could get like... dinner and lunch for tomorrow for under ten bucks. He wasn't gonna go wild though. He caught sight of a sign, 10 mini tacos for under three bucks? Oh but that chicken looked good, too. He could get six wings for pretty close to the same. And the pizza? The cheese was glistening.

He definitely wanted something with some protein and fat. Keep him full for a while. He made his way over to a cooler and contemplated pop before pulling out a bottle of lemonade instead, eyes drifting over a glass cupboard with a selection of donuts inside. Nah, nah. Don't get too much. He set the drink on the counter. "Could uh, d'you mind if I get the tacos and some wings? If that's too much, it's chill."