Like to charge reblog to cast

You’re not casting

where tf you paying 2k rent lmao? i'm not even making that much

wait.why does it only have one head?

are you fucking with me

Official NCR Post

marcille tries to act the big dog but is promptly outdogged by senshi

civic and moral duty to save and repost this image <3

future trunks + the few scenes tien and chiaotzu had a snow outfit

This is my dungeon meshi OC. His name is Killchuck and he's Chilchuck's evil twin. He has all of Chilchuck's skills but he also knows shadow magic and the instant knife murder technique.

Sometimes you've gotta dress your barbarian up real fancy, even if it makes her blush <3

If you’re LGBT reblog and tag with your opinion on beer.

The level of dehumanisation the Palestinians face is disgusting.

They are people.

And the Israelis are mocking them online, and it's sick and twisted but it also makes it very very easy to find out who the real victims are.

As always, the Irish speak nothing but facts.

How many more innocent civilians have to be killed by Israel before you condemn that for it?

That is a genocide.

That this is a crime on all accounts.

And deserves to be punished to the full extent off the law.

https://twitter.com/jijijibli/status/1391829463630024704?s=19

YOU hates terfs

rb if u hates terfs

Once a little boy went to school. One morning The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. He liked to make all kinds; Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, Trains and boats; And he took out his box of crayons And began to draw.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make flowers.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make beautiful ones With his pink and orange and blue crayons. But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And it was red, with a green stem. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at his teacher’s flower Then he looked at his own flower. He liked his flower better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just turned his paper over, And made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red, with a green stem.

On another day The teacher said: “Today we are going to make something with clay.” “Good!” thought the little boy; He liked clay. He could make all kinds of things with clay: Snakes and snowmen, Elephants and mice, Cars and trucks And he began to pull and pinch His ball of clay.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make a dish.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make dishes. And he began to make some That were all shapes and sizes.

But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And she showed everyone how to make One deep dish. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish; Then he looked at his own. He liked his better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just rolled his clay into a big ball again And made a dish like the teacher’s. It was a deep dish.

And pretty soon The little boy learned to wait, And to watch And to make things just like the teacher. And pretty soon He didn’t make things of his own anymore.

Then it happened That the little boy and his family Moved to another house, In another city, And the little boy Had to go to another school.

The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. And he waited for the teacher To tell what to do. But the teacher didn’t say anything. She just walked around the room.

When she came to the little boy She asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?” “Yes,” said the little boy. “What are we going to make?” “I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher. “How shall I make it?” asked the little boy. “Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher. “And any color?” asked the little boy. “Any color,” said the teacher. And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.

~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

…

I hate that I hesitated to reblog this just because I expect people to think it’s pretentious or melodramatic when it’s seriously real as fuck and I’ve witnessed it

Fuck man

My mom likes to refrence a story she read

About a guy who escaped North Korea

He said living there was like living in a pot

And he grew up there, so he grew into the shape of the pot

But once he was out

And the pot was gone

He was still in the shape of the pot

And he had to work really hard to grow outside that shape

I think its the same with alot of things

Art, gender presentation, decoration prefrences, food, hobbies

You forget what made you happy in favor of what kept you alive.