#Money Coaching

[gatewayofhealing92]

Mindfulness & Personal Evolution: The Journey to Authenticity

Ever feel like you're playing a part in life's grand theater, but the script doesn't quite resonate? It's a common yearning, this desire to shed layers, step out of the shadows, and truly shine as our authentic selves. And guess what? There's a path paved with mindfulness and potent tools that can guide you on this exciting journey of personal evolution.

Hold on, though, before diving headfirst into life-altering transformations. This isn't about becoming someone "new" (unless that someone is simply a more genuine version of you!). It's about shedding limiting beliefs, assuming your true essence, and radiating authenticity from within. And that, my friend, is where mindfulness comes in.

Mindfulness: Your Introspective GPS

Think of mindfulness as your personal GPS for navigating the vast landscape of the self. You become attuned to your thoughts, emotions, and impulses without judgment by cultivating present-moment awareness. This allows you to:

Recognize conditioned patterns It's important to be aware of the conditioned patterns that may be hindering your personal growth and success. These patterns could be in the form of automatic behaviors, self-imposed limitations, and emotional triggers that are deeply ingrained in your psyche. Identifying and recognizing these patterns is the first step towards breaking free from their grip and achieving your full potential.

Make conscious choices By making conscious choices, you are able to avoid being overwhelmed by reactive impulses and instead, make decisions that are in line with your authentic self. This involves being intentional and thoughtful about your actions, and taking steps to ensure that your choices reflect your values and priorities. By doing so, you can lead a more fulfilling and purposeful life.

Welcome self-compassion To nurture an untroubled and accepting state of mind, it's crucial to abandon the habit of criticizing oneself and adopt self-compassion instead. Treating oneself with kindness and understanding assists in fostering a gentle and forgiving attitude towards oneself, which can have a significant impact on one's overall well-being.

Unveiling Your Authentic Tapestry

Just picture this for a moment - what if you could combine the incredible power of mindfulness with a range of amazing tools like Life Coaching, Money Coaching & Abundance Coaching, Relationship Coaching, Law of Attraction Coaching, Mindset Coaching, Aura Scans & Aura Cleansing, and Color Therapy?

At Gateway of Healing, we offer an incredible array of services that will help you on your transformational journey, each thread adding a unique and vibrant layer to the tapestry of your life. Let us empower you to become the best version of yourself!

Life Coaching Your personal guide, helping you unearth your values, goals, and deepest desires. It's like having a cheerleader and strategic advisor in one, holding you accountable and celebrating your victories.

Money Coaching Unraveling limiting beliefs around money and abundance, and creating a mindset of financial freedom. Imagine attracting prosperity while aligning it with your authentic values.

Relationship Coaching Steering through the complexities of love, communication, and healthy boundaries. This isn't just about romantic relationships; it's about cultivating healthy dynamics in all aspects of your life.

Law of Attraction Coaching Harnessing the power of your thoughts and intentions to attract your desires. Understand the principles of manifestation and learn to cultivate positive energy for abundance in all areas.

Mindset Coaching Reprogramming limiting beliefs for a growth mindset. This is where you challenge self-doubt, welcome challenges, and step into your full potential.

Aura Scans & Cleansing Gaining insights into your energy field and releasing blocked emotions. Think of it as a spiritual spring cleaning, clearing the way for your authentic light to shine through.

Color Therapy Harnessing the power of color to influence your mood, emotions, and well-being. Surround yourself with energizing colors or use specific hues to promote relaxation and balance.

Remember, personal evolution is a journey, not a destination. It's a continuous process of exploration, self-discovery, and adopting your authenticity. At Gateway of Healing, we walk alongside you, offering guidance, tools, and a supportive community to empower your transformation.

Ready To Venture On Your Adventure? 4 Tips To Get You Started

Start small Pick one area you'd like to explore, like mindfulness practice or a specific coaching program. Consistency is key, so begin with manageable steps.

Adopt self-compassion Be kind to yourself on this journey. There will be ups and downs, and that's okay. Celebrate your progress, big and small.

Find your support system Surround yourself with positive, encouraging people who believe in your journey. Connect with our community or find like-minded individuals who share your path.

Trust the process Allow yourself to evolve and change at your own pace. This is a journey of self-discovery, not a race.

At Gateway of Healing, we believe that everyone has the potential to live a life of authenticity and fulfillment. With mindfulness as your compass and powerful tools at your disposal, you can steer through the journey of personal evolution and shine your brightest light. Remember, you are already enough, but there's an even more magnificent version of you waiting to be discovered.

Let's venture on this adventure together! P.S. Don't forget to explore the wealth of resources and articles on our website. We have something for everyone seeking guidance on their path to self-discovery and authenticity.

[pinkwishlist]

Coach Tabby Shoulder bag 26🤍🎀

[romance-rambles]

319 ROSES AND A DATE

Alkaid gets asked on a date by the girl he desperately wanted to ask out, at least before he found out who the flowers were for. You'd like to maintain that nothing you said was a lie.

— pairing: [modern] alkaid mcgrath x little painter/you

— word count: 2.8k

— tags: takes place after alkaid's florist ending [everything else happens the same way, except alkaid's first meeting with mc happens after godheim], misunderstandings [not unrequited love], some angst

— note: i was moved to try and write a flower shop au at least once after godheim but destiny's call really helped me out. handed me everything on a gold platter and said, "go to town, aya."

return to lbc masterlist | series: none

ALKAID STARES DOWN BLANKLY AT the bouquet of white roses in his hands. At some point during his stunned silence, he had unwittingly taken them off yours, just as you had hoped for.

All 319 of them, to be precise—which is a number that, put in a different context, can also refer to 3/19, the day of his birth. Even with the limited capacity he has at the moment to sort out the events that led up to this moment, he can't help the way his heart flutters at the knowledge that you remembered, even though so much time has passed.

"Alkaid?" A gentle tap against his shoulder robs the flowers of their spotlight. "Do you...not like the flowers?"

He looks up and sees you, still here—still dressed so beautifully he's once more in danger of succumbing to asphyxiation, with a fretful expression that makes him wonder if he's already there. When he does not respond, you close the remaining distance between them, obscuring all else from his vision.

It is a problem only because he has nowhere left to run.

"No," he croaks out finally, leaning back over the counter to accommodate you.

Obliviously, you move closer, leaving him with no choice but to avert his gaze once more. Alkaid can only hope you aren't offended—that you don't think he finds you unattractive, with how often he does so. It's only that your beaming smile reminds him of what it feels like to stare down the sun.

"They're lovely."

Satisfied with his answer, you pull back. Your hands are clasped behind your back, and your ponytail sways slightly, once more retreating behind your shoulder. There's an adorable star-shaped pin fastened onto the strap of your cross-body bag.

He sighs discretely, relieved, and pulls the bouquet up to his face as casually as he can. The petals, he hopes, will be enough to cover up the deep scarlet staining his cheeks.

"I'm glad!" You clap your hands together. "I was worried they wouldn't be to your liking. Maybe I should've asked you what your favorite flower was before I tried asking you out."

A self-deprecating laugh slips out as you scratch your cheek. An intricate design spans the length of your nail now—shades of red and green shaped into what he can clearly recognize as halves of a rose hugging the edges—against a black background.

Alkaid bites his lip, converting the interrupted gasp into a quiet exhale.

"You guessed right. I like white roses," he says, hoping desperately that his words are nothing less than reassuring. "Though they share that spot with lilies as well."

"Lilies," you repeat, a determined gleam in your lovely eyes. "I'll keep that in mind for next time."

He bites his lip harder.

THE MORNING HE'S DUE TO hand off your flowers, Alkaid finds himself contemplating the benefits of coffee behind the register.

Though his favorite concealer and his usual color corrector have done much to brighten up his undereyes, they can do little for the grogginess that comes with staying awake the whole night (Why such a specific number? Who are they for? Do you remember him at all?). And, by the time the clock strikes nine, he's already downed three cups of strongly-brewed tea.

What pushes him to finally break away from his usual preferences is a simple headache.

The store is empty, and there remains more than half an hour before you're set to arrive. A sharp twinge of pain in the side of his head as he stands up to check on your flowers draws out a careful hiss. Alkaid, with some amount of lingering hesitance, flips the sign on his door to closed, with a note explaining the rough length of absence. Then he walks out the door, his destination the artsy cafe across the street—the one that makes him think of you whenever he walks in.

Allen, the normally deadpan barista on duty, seems to shut down when Alkaid corrects him on his order. Soon, the news spreads to the rest of the employees, who take turns staring at him as he leaves with a warm thermos of coffee in his hands.

But, in the end, it proves to be an unnecessary trip.

You're already in front of his flower shop when he returns, half-crouched and studying the sign the way someone might study a work of abstract art. Today, too, you have a large, dark blue backpack slung over both your shoulders, its surface decorated with various pins and stickers—mostly of a cat, your cat, but also of a popular manga that you seem to like.

In Passing, that is.

It's about a love triangle featuring a tyrant emperor and a well-liked leader of the rebellion. Even without the reviews praising it for subverting expectations, Alkaid would've picked it up anyway.

He's on the third volume right now, and—

Hmm? His eyebrows furrow. Where did I leave it? In my bag?

All of a sudden, the sleep that had been so insistent on dragging his eyelids down vanishes. Alkaid wracks his brain desperately for the answers, stomach churning at the thought of you finding out about his latest reading material.

Unfortunately, you choose that moment to turn around.

"Oh, Alkaid!"

Your confused expression soon melts away, leaving behind only a cheerful smile. Tightening his grip on his thermos, he exhales silently, before flashing you a gentle smile.

"You're here." Time stops as you begin to approach him, your keychains singing a short jingle to accompany you. Your expression softens, as does your voice. "You didn't forget about me, right?"

Alkaid can only sputter out a half-coherent apology.

The words get drowned out by the insistent, purposeful beating of his heart. It's as if it wants to claw itself out of his chest and entrust itself to your hands, as it is, with shattered bones sticking out of it.

You laugh prettily, as always. "It's okay. I'm just joking."

Then, like a moth to a flame, his gaze falls upon your lips. A soft red, with a glossy sheen, one that matches the color of your skirt. On a plain canvas, it's all the more striking. It leaves him wondering about things he, currently a stranger, shouldn't be fretting over.

He's not sure how long he stares for, with slightly parted lips and a series of half-realized thoughts chiding at him to stop—only that it's not long enough for you to grow uncomfortable.

Alkaid clears his throat, holding up his thermos (I should've bought her something too, he thinks) as an explanation. "I apologize for the wait. I went over to the cafe across the street."

"Coffee lover?" you guess, making room for him to open the door.

"I'm usually more of a tea person." As he slips inside the store, he can't help but chuckle self-consciously, remembering all the different ways he imagined this scene playing out. Naturally, his next words are nothing more than the most blatant lie he's ever told. "I thought I'd try something else for a change."

"Is it a nice place?" Upon seeing the puzzled look he sends over his shoulder, you clarify, "The cafe. I've seen the reviews, but I think only experience can beat the testimony of someone you know."

He considers your question for a moment. "The staff is very friendly. I often stop by during lunch for their sandwiches."

"I see..." you murmur.

"I think you'd like it," Alkaid blurts out as he slips in behind the register, happy to note that his copy of Volume 3 is, in fact, in his bag. "The owner enjoys collecting art—there's a lot of different paintings all over the cafe. Um, since you're an art major."

"Well, now I have to try it out." You don't seem particularly startled that he knows about your major; instead, you take to drawing patterns across the wooden countertop. He thinks he sees the familiar curve of an A. "The cookies you recommended last time were really great too."

When he keeps his silence, the complete opposite of what the state of his mind currently is (she remembers?), you look up.

"Hmm?" You tilt your head, confusion clouding your once smiling expression. "Do I have the wrong person? You're Alkaid, right? From that time in the snow mountains?"

He forces himself to nod, but that too is enough.

A shy smile blossoms on your lips, paired with both a brief flash of relief flitting through your gaze and the slight, almost imperceptible widening of your eyes. Placing your hands above your heart, you sigh exaggeratedly.

"You had me worried for a moment," you say. Your eyelashes cast a dark shadow on your undereyes. "I thought we'd never meet again."

For a moment, he wonders if there's more to your sorrow than you let on. Does it have anything to do with the way you disappeared? Somewhere so far away that no one could reach you at all?

Alkaid shakes off his thoughts.

"But we did," he responds carefully. I never thought we'd meet again either, he does not say instead. "Whether it was destiny, whether it was just a coincidence, we did. All we can do is make the most of it."

A tinge of sadness mars your lovely smile. "I think that sounds lovely."

SOON AFTER THEIR REUNION, DONE properly this time, down to exchanging numbers, Alkaid excuses himself to go fetch your flowers. When he returns, lovesick heart brimming with curiosity over the recipient's identity once more, he finds you've returned to doodling on the counter.

"Here they are, 319 white roses," he announces.

There's a blank expression on your face when you look up. Slowly, as recognition dawns upon you, it melts away to something bitter and rough. Its jagged edges dig into his his heart, leaving a paralyzing mix of sadness and longing to wash over him.

And then—

"Thank you," you say, and take the flowers off his hand.

His hand twitches, yearning for the camera he still keeps in his backpack, for the days where he feels like memorializing something instead. Lovely is the only word he has to describe you as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ears and pull the bouquet close with a faint smile.

Then, you close your eyes, and you inhale deeply. Once more, you are somewhere else—somewhere far, somewhere he can't reach.

"Ah, sorry." You crack one eye open. Now, the bouquet is clutched against your chest, but your sadness remains. "I guess I'm a bit nervous. I don't know if he'll like the flowers."

He? From some far corner of his mind, he recalls the image of your guardian. A tall man, with long silver hair and a pleasant, but guarded expression. Cael, he thinks is the name.

"For your guardian?" Alkaid inquires.

Your smile drops entirely at the mention of your guardian. A complicated series of emotions flash in your gaze, soon averted to one of the potted plants at the display. Scratching your cheek, you offer him a polite laugh.

Today, only some of your nails are a plain black. The rest remain bare.

"No, it's not for Cael." You answer carefully. "Actually—"

Looking down at the flowers, you take a deep breath. When next you speak, your voice has reclaimed the softness it'd shown him earlier—your searching gaze as well. You leave him with the truth, imparting it onto him like a mischievous secret.

"There's someone I'd like to ask out."

His stomach drops, and you leave him with the memory of lovelorn smile, forever imprinted behind his eyelids.

"I hope he says yes."

[3:00 PM] you: Alkaid, do you have any plans tonight?

[3:17 PM] alkaid: No, I'm free

[3:21 PM] alkaid: Did something happen?

[3:22 PM] you:

[3:22 PM] you: I haven't asked him out yet. Gonna do it soon

[3:23 PM] you: All of my other friends are busy rn.

[3:24 PM] you: Is it okay if I stop by after you close up shop?

[3:24 PM] you: I'd want to talk to someone about it

[4:31 PM] alkaid: Of course

SOMEHOW, ALKAID MANAGES TO GET through the rest of the day.

His heart is held together haphazardly with duct tape and carefully-placed staples, though their efforts are thwarted constantly by a popular refrain (You hardly know him. Of course there's someone else.), and he's one stubbed toe away from being reduced to tears, but he manages. Somehow.

He swallows down his what-ifs and maybes and waits, watching the hands on his wristwatch inch ever closer to six in the evening. And eventually, the vaguely promised time arrives.

As he's stepping out from behind the register, a familiar chime echoes cuts through the silence. Alkaid looks up and sees you, dressed still in red and black, your turtleneck and skirt swapped out for a knee-length dress.

"Hi."

The bouquet of white roses—held in both hands, a stark contrast to the black leather jacket you're wearing—covers up its neckline. You smile sheepishly at him, pulling at the mesh of your bright red skirt to mimic a curtsy.

You're beautiful. Even the flowers surrounding them pale in comparison. Even the aurora they'd seen together pales in comparison. You rob him of his breath and leave gasping for a reprieve, but so long as he keeps his memory in even the smallest capacity, that's simply impossible.

The familiar knife called jealousy stabs into his heart, leaving him keenly aware of his longing. He averts his gaze, but the damage has already been done. You are beautiful, and he has waited years to see you.

"Hi." Alkaid swallows uncomfortably, as the sound of your footsteps draws closer. In a panic, his hands brace themselves against the edge of the counter. "Was something wrong with the flowers? I thought—"

A mysterious expression sits upon your features when you pull his gaze onto you, seemingly oblivious to your magnetic power.

With a deep breath, you thrust the flowers at him, knuckles brushing against his chest. You pull back for a moment, taking your flowers with you, and the soft coral of your blush makes it difficult to discern whether you find yourself a victim the of same scarlet blooming across his cheeks.

"That's—" You cough politely. There's a heart-shaped pendant dangling from your golden necklace. The dress is either strapless or your jacket has covered up the straps. "—what I'm here to find out."

Alkaid tilts his head. His confused gaze darts across his surroundings and stops at the glass window of the store's display, thinking perhaps that your mystery boy might be outside. But while the streets are not barren, there is no one outside his store.

You say his name in the same way you told him your secret. Like it's something precious. Like it's something you love. And the truth begins to settle into his bones with a finality that deafens the half-coherent puzzle pieces he's been trying to fit together—he is the only one you could possibly ask out in this empty store.

He has no choice but to look back. At you, and the bouquet you're offering him.

"Would you like to go to the movies with me?"

AND THAT IS HOW HE finds himself with the beginnings of a bruise forming on his lip. He doesn't mind, not when the sting he feels as he wets his lip reminds him that this is not, in fact, a dream (It feels like it though, he thinks), nor a fantasy.

"You...you don't have a girlfriend, do you? It's been a while since then..."

You rub your arm lightly, muttering about something he can't understand, and what else is Alkaid meant to do but take your hand? He squeezes it gently, tickled to find that he can return the favor for all the times you've stolen his breath away.

Your lips part slightly, but whatever you hoped to say does not leave the confines of your mysterious mind. Instead, you draw some of your hair from both sides over your flushed cheeks.

"Nothing like that," he reassures, smiling gently at you. "I'm just surprised. I didn't realize you were talking about me."

"That's a reli—what." In a single moment, your voice goes from girlishly breathless to an irritated flat. Releasing your hair, you blink uncomprehendingly at him. "How?"

Watching you descend into another muttered ramble, Alkaid shrugs. "If you'd still like that date..."

You whip your head in his direction. "Then it's a date!"

The first time he met you, it was when you had fished out of the snow and offered him a warm drink to fight off the cold. They had talked about miscellaneous things, from your half-hearted desire to request a camera for your birthday to who could make the better model between them both.

And back then, he had thought to himself that there was no sound more beautiful than your laugh.

Almost four years after the fact, as he watches you giggle, Alkaid can confidently say his past self had the right idea. Such a specific title leaves him with room to declare your follow-up smile to be just as breathtaking.

[mrs-trophy-wife]

[ryukisgod]

I’m begging men who pay “dating coaches” to realise women are not the fish, women are the bait, YOU are the fish, and the “dating coaches” are the fishermen.

“Dating gurus” survive on the desperate men who pay them, the way a fisherman survives off the fish he catches. Women are the lures these podcasters/YouTubers etc dangle in front of lonely men in order to get them to sign up for a course and hand over their credit card details

[n3ongold3n]

Everyone is watching concert streams (and so am i in a way - by tumblr osmosis as always) but mainly i am watching this interview-ish video of vintage käärijä where he takes singing lessons with a voice coach and it is the CUTEST thing, i want to burst!!

[gods-favorite-autistic]

Hey yall im back with Fig and the Cig Figs professionally produced Freshman year album (formally known as Detention) track list:

Detention

Bad Kid

Dragonslayer

Sk8er Gurl (yes it is basically just a fantasy version of Sk8er Boy by Avril Lavigne)

Burn Towns Get Money

Pit Fiend

Corn Cuties

Disguise Self

Closed Book

Infodump

Seven Maidens

Every Album Needs A Bonus Track (yes that is the name of the song)

Here’s the Junior Year Track List in case you wanna see it!

[daylightisviolent]

as devastated that i am about olivia colman not being able to return for hs season 3 i also cannot stop thinking about who else can take over her role as alice mentioned on their ig.. my vote goes out for coach singh please please please

[crazy-fangirl2524]

No because this is hilarious they are like after discussing such a serious issue about the head of mafia’s son in their university and suddenly the coach is just like I have a son and like what it can’t top yakuza and murder and torture and then boom it’s Kevin fucking day like oh my gods this scene is so funny you don’t understand

[gatewayofhealing92]

5 Tiny Tweaks to Master Meditation & Find True Clarity

Are you someone who has tried meditation but ended up feeling like you were wrestling with a stubborn octopus instead of achieving inner peace? Don't worry, you're not alone! Many of us have been there. But here's the good news - finding clarity through meditation is not some mystical superpower reserved only for yogis in mountain caves. It's a journey that anyone can venture on, and we're here to help you with a map. First things first, what do we mean by "clarity"? Whether it's about a decision you've been struggling with, a creative block you've hit, or simply a more profound sense of inner peace - clarity can help you find your way.

[lemonhemlock]

The thing about Otto and Alicent having boundaries overstepped by Otto teaching Alicent how to ensnare Viserys - I think people don't grasp the historical and cultural nuances here. Women over history have been coached on how to be attractive to men to get rich husbands or fathers pay for their daughters to go to deportment lessons etc. I think the book Gone With The Wind is a great example of how Scarlett is brainwashed into acting like a sexually attractive vacant vapid child woman by being taught by her mother and Mammy how to get a man. This includes what clothes to wear, how to flatter a man, use a fan etc and Scarlett adds on her own variations as well. It's like an inheritance.

Through a modern lens, ofc this is all wrong, parents shouldn't be teaching their children how to be sexually appealing. But historically there is a huge percentage where this was the norm from the ground up with the working class or lower middle class aping their richer counterparts to ascend the social ladder through marrying their kids off. Not everyone did this but it happened. If we look at The Buccaneers and Bridgerton it's all there. Mothers and fathers and guardians and brothers etc were all imparting to their kids, wards etc how to conduct and present themselves to the best advantage for the families benefit.

I think Otto is doing that here rather than abusing Alicent sexually. As a female and she is young and beautiful, Otto thinks he has a full hand. He sees Alicent as a pawn in his quest for power and when he sees an opening after Aemma dies, he immediately takes the opportunity because who are we kidding there would be other parents who would see a chance to put their daughter on the throne. When we get Aegon and Aemond maybe we romanticise it because they're young adult princes but the girls around them are being groomed to catch their eye whilst the princes are single. It all comes down to power and dynasty and I feel it we interpret by modern standards we lose the nuance.

Tbh I see it evolving into a different level with our influencer culture where TikTik tells us to be that girl etc, it's the parent grooming us to be as sexually appealing to the Internet gaze for advantage. And I see literal parents capitalize on their children by turning them into a product and it's becoming disgusting as they're ambiguously sexualising their toddlers to sate the abhorrent audiences they're attracting in the comments requesting to see the child eat cucumbers and fuck all is being done about it. That makes me so mad. Then we have parents teaching their little girls to be influencers and brainwashing them into doing that tapping their fingernails etc for asmr and to always have cute sound bites or manic smiles at the ready as soon as a camera is on them. We still have our Ottos today.

I do agree on the historical practices of coaching the daughters of the family, so that they become as appealing as possible to potential suitors. I would be wary, though, to ascribe definite time periods or geographical regions to these customs, since I am not an expert in this. I also believe these tended to be more prevalent in upper class / noble circles or in money-making spheres like merchants, bankers and other types of early capitalists, than they would be in working class scenarios.

Certainly, we are all aware, from our 19th century novels at least, of how the education of young ladies was focused on people-pleasing skills and other elements meant to appeal to men: piano-playing, sewing and embroidery (clothes-making might sound frivolous at first, but it was an important practical and economic skill to have in a household), drawing/painting, dancing etc. And the related concept of etiquette classes has certainly permeated through popular culture. So, yes, in a way, these are all related practices to how Otto advances Alicent as a potential wife.

But, I would argue that (and, again, because this is HotD, there is bound to be some focus on the dysfunctional) what Otto does is more of an overstep of boundaries, because he is deliberately shown to instruct Alicent in wearing a dress that is more revealing that what she usually wears and he is actively placing her into scenarios in which she is alone with Viserys. Whereas, "in the past" (broadly speaking), there definitely was a focus on maintaining a maiden's honour and girls would not be paraded in sexy dresses in front of their suitors, nor would they even be allowed to be alone in a room with any man that is not related to them. Otto's tactics here can be construed as rather scandalous. So the sexual aspect here is brought to the surface more than in other, more innocent "tutelage" scenarios.

[penaargolasblog]

Aí vida de luxo... Boca doce, pecado de ninguém, uma mão cheia de sal e duas colheres de clara de ovo cobrem este animal que já de servir de manjar para este grupo social. Está festa de e noite. Queres morder me?

[evankinard]

oh god I just remembered I have a shift at 9 tomorrow

[mrs-trophy-wife]

[arsonist-chicken]

hehehe fourth day in a row I've slept until 5pm because I fucked up my sleep rhythm staying up until 7am but probably more likely because of the ✨curses✨, but at least today I finally saw some sunlight again by walking to the store to still make it before they close. this is fine.

[une-sanz-pluis]

God I hate Lauren Johnson’s “Henry VI had a sex coach" thing.