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my best friend linen my brother in arms cotton my partner wool my beautiful sister silk

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God Bless people who dress wild and go out in public. I love seeing a woman in all pink with pink hair and pink nails, with a tiny dog in a pink outfit in her bag. Or a massively goth dude covered in piercings sporting a giant green mohawk. Cosplayers. SCA reenactors. Ren Faire people. There’s nothing I love more than a pair of handsome young men walking around in Revolutionary War outfits. Just please keep dressing wild and freaky. You bring color to life, and it never fails to put a big smile on my face.

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I've gone fifteen years on this website without absorbing any information about homestuck and I'm not about to start now

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list of the most disappointingly misleading band names:

Violent Femmes

10,000 Maniacs

Barenaked Ladies

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what the fuck is game changer even about

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You’ve been isekaied to this world for the past six months. You thought you were getting the handle on things until you came to this little village your guide recommended.

And it was a lovely village, to be fair. There was a pretty little open air marketplace and a church. There had been a wedding the day before you arrived. For a while you watched an old woman picking out rice from between the stones in front of the church. You met the groom in the marketplace, where he ran a little fruit stand. His new wife was a singer, apparently, and he invited you to watch her sing at the tavern that evening.

There was a bit of a scuffle there that night. In the middle of one of the songs, this raccoonfolk kid burst through the door with a gun, yelling something about a showdown, only to get shot by one of the other guests. Nobody else was hurt, thank the gods, and apparently the kid got nothing worse than a scratch. Once everything had calmed down, Desmond - the man from the fruit stand, his name was Desmond - told you that this kind of thing happened more often than you’d think. Molly - his wife - grinned ghoulishly and told you a story about this one kid a few years back who had gone totally barking mad and beat a classmate and his teacher over the head with a hammer.

They were very impressed that you were able to guess what the hammer was made of.

The next morning you got up early and watched the sun rise over the fruit orchards east of town. It was beautiful, watching the strawberry fields in the light. Desmond had said the night before that the winter had been brutal. Felt like it had lasted for years. Now the fields gleamed in gold and green in every direction.

A sealfolk man with big tusks waved at you when you passed by. He was restocking the market’s egg stand. You waved back and then immediately turned into an alleyway to have a panic attack because what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck was going on. Was someone fucking with you?! What was happening

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don’t tell anyone, but sometimes I notice a customer really enjoying the music playing in the shop (from a giant 48hr playlist I usually leave on shuffle) so I quietly open spotify and start curating a private DJ set for that customer in particular

this post is dedicated to the guy I caught singing along to Veruca Salt under his breath. hope you’re enjoying Ben Folds, up next I’ve got the Pixies, Ted Leo, and Cub’s “Main and Broadway” just for you

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Stirrup spout vessel in the form of a quail, Nazca, 100-500 AD

from The Princeton University Art Museum

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Saw this friend at the thrift store

oh!

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Xユーザーの日々 (沖縄)さん：「ガザミ 那覇市鏡原 #crab」

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some star-shaped iranian tiles i like, created in the thirteenth century. [source: art institute of chicago 1, 2, 3, 4]

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RIP Andy Hallett, who would've celebrated his 50th birthday today.

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booty shorts that say "I'd rather be in Ankh-Morpork, which is really more of an indictment of the here and now than an endorsement of one's personal safety and happiness in Ankh-Morpork" on the ass in very small font