aflirtingaccident

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ya novel about a teenage girl in wigan who discovers she can distinguish pea wet from gravy

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hallway couple

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In a double-blind study, 53 of the 136 surveyed wigan residents were not able to tell it apart from gravy, while another 79 participants described it as "different, but just as good"

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disappointed traveler being given a piece of lembas bread: oh, *bread* by elves. I see.

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back to work.

a little bonus for the details of what thesa might be saying lmao + the link to the inspo. it's the green yuri. happy yuri day.

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<- prev

I think they'll sleep soundly after this 😏✂️

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alright here's the rundown. more detailed version coming soon probably. the things i do for you guys

(transcript of prologue below the cut)

It's a lavender sky this time, this world. A lavender sky deepening to aubergine over a city of neon and brass. It's beautiful in it's way, just like any other city on any other world.

I-prime hasn't bothered to learn its name.

He stands in the hotel window, watching the burnished streets below gleam with fading light. The rhythmic thrum beneath his feet signals the rousing of the club below. They're playing a song that I has never heard in his life, yet part of him remembers it all the same.

The blank-faced watch on his wrist chimes a single long tone. I-piece taps its face without taking his eyes off the path into the nightclub.

"Hello, T."

"You're not in position," T says through the speaker. Their voice betrays none of the frustration that I knows he must feel.

"I'm where I need to be," I-prime says.

"We talked about this—"

"Yes, you talked, that's what you do. I make decisions."

T-piece's response is cut off by further chimes from the watch. Short, long, short, short—then the voice of L comes through.

"There's no time," she says. "The Boss just Held onto J. It's on, it's now."

"As expected," says I.

With a snap of his fingers the air before him splits. I-prime reaches into the crack between two universes and retrieves his sniper rifle. He looks down its sights, out the window, down the gleaming street.

Someone approaches the door to the club. A tall, svelt man with a face that I-prime is so sick of seeing other people wear.

I wonder what this one's named, I-prime muses as he lines up the shot.

Izaak? Ignacius? Indigo?

As he pulls the trigger on himself from another life, I-prime knows it doesn't matter what this alternate is called.

He lost track of their names a long time ago.

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Art commission by @moonsinkfoxgirl

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My T-shirt with the entire text of Borges' theoretical Library of Babel is raising a lot of questions already answered by the shirt, somewhere.

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This really cuts to the heart of it, doesn’t it? By their own admission, Zohran will not do anything materially to make Jews in New York unsafe, but he just makes them feeeeel unsafe for some ☪️ reason 🟤 and really isn’t that just as bad?

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Inner peace 🕊️🐱😌

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about a week ago i found this in a goodwill, one of those “grow in water” toys but

there’s no pictures of what might be inside besides the awful baby clipart, and i am insanely curious about whats actually in the egg 

15 hour adventure starting now

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wallace you cant say that

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Sound on. How dogs navigate stairs.

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can I interest you in baby trash panda chaos