i move the stars for no one

cats dont even know how baby they are. they probably think theyre wise and dangerous and respectable but theyre actually little baby guys. we know this. its obvious to us that theyre small and baby. but they dont know

you’re laughing? ed canonically has a daddy kink and we found out after ofmd’s already been double cancelled and you’re laughing?

Menace.

‘LIX’ from Absolute Solitude: Selected Poems (2016), by Dulce María Loynaz, tr. James O’Connor | Kate McGahan (unknown origin) | starpeace | ‘I Cannot Be Known’ from Selected Poems by Paul Eluard (1936), tr. Gilbert Bowen (1988) | Norwegian Wood (1987), by Haruki Murakami | ‘Walking Home’ from Magdalene (2017), by Marie Howe | Ruin and Rising (2014), Leigh Bardugo | ‘Soul Mates’ from Love and Misadventure (2013), by Lang Leav | Gabriela Mistral, from a letter to Doris Dana (c.1950), tr. Velma García-Gorena | I Origins (2014), dir Mike Cahill |‘It’s All Coming Back To Me Now’ from Original Sin (1989), Jim Steinman | ‘All Things End’ from Unreal Unearth (2023), Hozier | all other images taken from Baldur's Gate 3 (Larian Studios)

this conservative party graphic is driving me insane. its so fucking funny. waht is thissss. its so funny that even in the giddyu throes of delirious natinalism the uk cant aspire to higfher than second

we have CAR. we have TWO BOATS. SEVEN planes. fourteen MEN. a christopher nolan is ONE OF THEM.

scribble from my playthrough. there is definitely a statue of astarion somewhere in baldurs gate because we wouldn't survive without him

while kissing my cat's little head: you're a problem *smooch* you're a terror *smooch* you're a menace to society *smooch smooch smooch*

The thing about Cottagecore is that is a fetishized aesthetic of country life, divorced from labor and idealized by a primarily urban audience with a backward looking ethos of tradition. They are not prepared for the stresses of a rural life: farming; harvesting; tapping pumpkins to ensure none of them have been replaced with flesh; losing out on income by having to use one of your pigs in a blood sacrifice to paint protective sigils over your doors and windows; checking cracks and chimneys for the flesh-vines of the Pumpkin Lord; having to decide, before the Growth is complete, whether that's really your tradwife or an amassment of vines, leaves, and blood in the shape of your tradwife; ignoring their desperate pleas that "I'm me! No! No!" as you burn them alive, realizing too late you picked wrong; and the exploitative corporate nature of commercial farming in 2024. All seen through a deeply colonial lens, of course

The divine right of kings but it's a curse

You will wear the crown, you have no choice, the spikes growing on your head have a metal sheen to them and coalesce into a mock halo. You will command, for your voice is a terrible thing, you are a terrible thing. You will be just, and you will be fair, for any grievances you cause to your people scar your body and leave lasting pain and false promises sizzle on your tongue like hot oil. Your god is watching and it won't forget what your ancestor did and it won't let you go

the fact that we need 8 hours of sleep is ridiculous we should only need 4 and the other 4 should be used to be cozy in your bed and rub your legs together like a cricket and listen to music and think about your little scenarios

He’s hella studious

count everything, including dorms, moving between houses on a single campus/compound, etc.

if you were/are homeless/couch surfing, count each location where you stayed at least a week.

*listens to Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy on repeat* i'm fine 🐍👼🏼

• prints!❤️