Happy birthday Tifa! This is a preview of my fic for @tifazine as the sun rises on a new day outside of Midgar.
Preorders are now open! Don’t miss out! ✨ tifazine.bigcartel.com ✨
Not a mufasa origin story
"Long distance coven"
aka witches' Whatsapp/Skype :)
This is the second illustration in the witch series I want to make. As usual, lots of ideas and very little time !
You can get prints in my Inprnt shop !
Y’all, I just got an email alert about a new chapter on a story I follow. Here’s the author’s note for that chapter. 😂
This is the most validating post.
[ID: screenshot of text that reads: “Chapter 8. Author’s note: Sorry about the 13 and a half years delay in updating this story. I know that Razor flip-phones and MySpace were all the rage the last time I updated. But 13 years is a blink of the eye hen you consider all of human existence.” /end ID]
I was going to transcribe this, but looked it up instead after seeing the username. Brown Butter Brownies from Broma Bakery!
The single serve double chocolate chip cookies that I pretty religiously make like four times a week are from Broma Bakery and they are so decadent and rich and amazing, I def recommend their recipes.
I haven’t seen this linked on here so: this is an awesome resource for how you can help the people in Palestine. It has donation links, helps you figure out how to contact your representatives, and a regularly updated list of planned protests. It is USAmerican centric but the list of protests is international.
If you are American this site has a tool that sends an email for you. All you need to enter is your name, email address, and street address so they can auto-find your senators. It will take 30 seconds.
Nothing will dispell the "the curtains were just blue" myth faster than writing something yourself, because the amount of pretentious symbolism i am putting in my silly little fanfics is ridiculous. I mean SO much with these words, literally every single one of them. This fic has twenty five typos and zero correct uses of punctuation but if there's curtains you bet your ass I put thought into what colour they were.
My writing is 30% symbolism I put there on purpose, 55% stuff that was kind of random at the time but I realized worked really well as a thread of symbolism in a subsequent chapter, and 15% random stuff that readers decided was meaningful and I ran with it.
if you are looking for breast removal top surgery, please check out this website if you are struggling to find a surgeon!
this was recommended to me by my endocrinologist who has used them for their own top surgery! i have to go out of state for my top surgery so i am also searching rn!
I was being cancelled because apparently it was classist to put feathers on dinosaurs.
Both dream me and irl me were very confused.
it might have been a dream, but feathered dinosaurs being linked to an ideology isn't that uncommon. Them being viewed as "leftist", "woke" or "gay" has occured several times.
I collect these examples.
reblog if you like dinosaurs, are gay, or just really like feathers
sometimes plushies make me cry because it’s like. they’re little guys made to be loved. their only purpose is to be held and hugged and loved. we made them because we love making things and we love loving things. and they’re so cute
Years back, I was working at a specialty store, and we got this HUGE crate of plushy toys. They were all insanely cute and squishy. I knew kids would go nuts for them, as it was the first week of December, so parents and grandparents often had kids with them while shopping for furniture, lamps, cooking equipment, lights, etc.
One night, I was working my last hour of my shift covering the Customer Service desk, which meant when I wasn't busy, I was supposed to help clean up around the cash registers, including taking back items people changed their minds about at the checkout. Earlier, I had witnessed a kid carrying thos cute plushy toy. It was a brown and white hedgehog. The kid, at the checkout, saw a remote control car and he told his dad he qanted it. The dad told him, "The plushy or the car- you can't have both" (by the way, I respect boundaries with kids and parents sticking to their guns about it), and the kid picked the car.
So, I'm cleaning up, have less than an hour left of my shift, and I see the little plushy hedgehog. Somehow, he never got put back nor had anyone else seen him and decided to buy him. He was just sitting there, slumped to the side, unattended.
It's Christmas and I'm a sentimental old sap at heart. My brain starts replaying the scene from RUDOLPH where he's on the Island of Misfot Toys, and is told a toy is never truly happy until it is loved. I picked him up and quickly took him back to the bin with the plushies but... It was empty. He was literally the last plushy toy and my boss was about to wheel the bin out. We weren't getting any more toys till November, so that meant any toys left at this point needed to sell or they'd be sent to the dump.
I brought the little hedgehog to the front, figuring someone would see him with the candy, candles, & Christmas brick-a-brack, and fall in love with him. When I finished my shift, I went to ask my manager a question and as I passed the Christmas candle display - there he sat, the sad little slumped over hedgehog plushy. No one had bought him, or even moved him.
My manager, Phillip, saw me and the hedgehog. He asked how the hedgehog got there. I told him how I'd put him there when the bin got sent back, and he was the only plushy left. Philip had kids, I figured he'd probably get sentimental and buy it for his kids. Nope. He shrugged and said he'd send it back to be disposed of.
That night, I came home with a plushy hedgehog in my passenger seat. My mom saw him and just thought he was the cutest little hedgehog and asked what I wanted to do with him. I told her the story, then added I didn't know exactly what I wanted to do with him.
My mom is a child psychiatrist, specializing in children with PTSD and brain damage that results in learning problems/issues with processing their emotions. She asked if she could have the plushy hedgehog (even offered to pay me for him, she didn't expect me to just give him over), so kids could hug him when they were upset in session.
Murphy, the plushy hedgehog that still slumps a little to the left when seated, has been hugged by hundreds of kids. Little girls have held him tight while explaining about bullies, little boys have held him tight while crying over their panic attacks, younger siblings have held him to whisper secrets while elder siblings and parents talk about self-soothing techniques, teenagers have hugged Murphy while talking about the worst day of their lives. Murphy has also been hugged by kids excitedly chatting about a new friend at school, a teen girl excited to be called by her name instead of her dead-name, little kids proudly saying they've mastered their ABCs, and even staff members who just need to come chat over a case they are having trouble with.
Every now and then, my mom brings Murphy home for a weekend. He gets washed (she calls it a Spa Weekend, to her coworkers, all of them laughing), dried, and sits outside with my mom in the sunshine to get aired out, then on Monday, they are back to work. Some kids even just ask to hold Murphy while they talk, no matter their mood or what they want to talk about. They just want to hug Murphy.
So yes. Plushies are made for one purpose. To be hugged and loved. To be a comfort.
that was everything I was hoping it would be. marvelous
I love this because you know exactly where it's going and you're not disappointed
I was so looking forward for the Jupiter gravity and it didn't disappoint and THEN THE SUN GRAVITY MADE ME HOLLER