I’m doing this for purely scientific purposes—
(Rambled elaboration below)
I had a discussion with my mom where she expressed that she preferred hollow chocolate bunnies, whereas I said that hollow chocolate bunnies are depressing because there’s less chocolate.
I then wondered if it’s common that hollow choco bunnies are preferred or if my mom was just a weirdo. (Btw we had this conversation over a week ago but I stole my brothers solid choco bunny and it got me thinkin’)
Anyway please share this around I need answers
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Crying Shame
“So, what was it about tonight than made chancing detention seem sensible?” Marisa asks him, settling back against the windowsill and folding her arms.
“It will not have escaped your notice that there are plenty of deep pockets out there. Thanks to you, these are the sorts of petty indignities with which I must now concern myself.”
Oh, it’s delicious. Delicious! “Ah,” she says, smiling, “so tonight we’re both whores.”
“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response,” he says, followed immediately by, “Though if I am a whore tonight, it’s only because you made me so.”
“Of course, it’s always my fault, isn’t it? So who can I blame? Who made me a whore?”
“Not me,” he says. She wonders if he’ll leave then, or at least threaten to. But instead he walks purposefully towards one of the room’s two settees, red leather, facing each other, and sits down without breaking eye contact. He looks up at her. She doesn’t like it; as if she’s a girl in a pleasure house and he expects her to take off her clothes for him and dance. So she walks over and sits opposite him, on the other settee, and he smiles a little as he leans back into the leather, rests one ankle on the opposite knee, and has another mouthful of his drink. Stelmaria comes to stand at one end of the sofas, and then the golden monkey leaps up deftly, to perch on the arm at the other end of the two. For a moment, the four of them hang there, watching, sipping, breathing, like the four points of a compass or pieces laid on a chessboard.
A fic in which Marisa and Asriel’s latest power struggle ends in tears. This one gets a bit dark; please read the tags. And read the fic itself on AO3.
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Hey! This is for a bigger project I'm thinking of starting. If anyone could help out, I'd really appreciate it. It's kind of a turn from my usual stuff with Marvel and whatnot, but bare with me and reblog if you've got any friends/mutuals that can help out!
Calling any history/culture/mythology/folklore fans out there.
Basically, I need folklore from all different kinds of cultures, specifically personifications of things, such as Lady Justice from Greek, the Grim Reaper from Dark Ages, and Yin/Yang from Chinese.
I'm interested to hear anything and everything from all continents and countries. African, Asian, Australian, Europian, South American, and North American.
Give me the bad, give me the good, give me the ridiculous, give me the serious, give me all of it! Religious, scientific, nature, whatever!
Thanks to every participant!
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inspired by boop day, reblog this post if its ok for people to send you random asks and interact on your posts with no judgement. i want to talk to people.
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From instructions on how to opt out, look at the official staff post on the topic. It also gives more information on Tumblr's new policies. If you are opting out, remember to opt out each separate blog individually.
Please reblog this post, so it will get more votes!
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I want to see a work of fiction that reverses the "vampires are snobby upper class, werewolves are brutish lower class" stereotypes
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I’m really glad that Aaron’s self-immolation for Palestine is getting attention, but on November 8th there was also a Congolese man who did the same thing for the genocide happening in the DRC. From what I read in the article above, his fate and identity are unknown but I think his story should be getting equal amount of traction and I haven’t really seen anyone talking about it on Tumblr specifically yet.
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attention joann's shoppers. there is a freak in the yarn aisle buildinf a nest
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emily gwen, the creator of the sunset lesbian flag that we’ve come to commonly use, still continues to live in poverty.
multi-billion dollar companies have used their design and made profit from it, and yet they have not seen a cent for their creation.
i’ve been friends with emily for years, and i have not once seen them be financially stable the entire time. i’ve seen them homeless, unemployed, starving. right now, they need our help more than ever.
please consider donating to emily’s ko-fi, especially if you’ve used their design to create something and profited from it.
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FORTY THOUSAND NOTES OLIVE OSTROVSKY????
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