#and a little confusing how it came out

[misfitsandmischief]

@mymanymerrymuses

Curiosity is a dangerous thing in the hands of simple creatures. Curiosity has it’s downfalls on occasion, this is something of a lesson that has been taught, though definitely not learned, to the two birds that sit in a tree just at the edge of a school yard. Truly its probably a miracle at this point that curiosity hasn’t killed the crows, and yet here they are, sticking their beaks somewhere else where they don’t belong. 

Now in all honesty it’s Junim’s curiosity that fuels just about every little mishap that happens to the two birds, he has a genuine want to learn about the two leggers they see walking about every day, wants to be able to blend in more when he himself makes the change and trots about. And yet somehow Aiden seems to be the one to drag them forward into the danger. If Junim is the mind, Aiden is the body, and one that doesn’t wait for instruction at that. 

That is how they find themselves snooping through the school, their small heads peaking into nooks and crannys, their wings and feet taking them from hops and bounds to clumsy landings in out-of-sight places. Had the day stayed relatively quiet they probably would have been in and out, their curiosity quelled if not satisfied. The quiet was broken at the sound of people though, and hearing any sort of excitement was always due for an investigation. Right? 

Of course getting into the gym had been the tricky part, the door was out of the question so the two had needed to fly about until they had found an open window, Thankfully it was higher up and not as noticeable because while they had found a way in, their entrance had not been the most graceful thing. A few feathers fallen and much hopping through the rafters later and they finally had settled on a spot to sit and watch what was going on below them. It was something of a game, that was about the extent of either of the crow’s knowledge, but it sure did look fun.

[r0semultiverse]

Okay; so, this was an Ice Prince Finn scarecrow!

[booasaur]

NCIS: Hawai’i - 2x05

[nerdie-faerie]

Just when I think the day's going well, I crash a golf cart

[thedrotter]

sweet sweet re:kinder community... I would like to ask y'all how you came upon the game and your experiences with it because i wanna know. im genuinely so curious to hear about other people's experiences and little opinions about this game because of how wild the game is (/pos) I'd love to hear it. do ramble to me about it

[forestofsprites]

there's so much to experience on this ludicrous little planet of ours. it is devastatingly thrilling, absolutely calamitous, fun and stupid and ridiculous and beautiful and awful and loving!!!

[lith-myathar]

.

[science-lings]

I'm so normal I love it when the current blorbo canonically displays signs of trauma and it's noticed by the people and it's not played for jokes (aside from misunderstanding what their reactions really mean)

[sometipsygnostalgic]

I haven’t actually seen Umbrella Academy season 3, but Viktor coming out as a supervillain, gay, AND trans, in quick succession within a year, is such a queer mood. Once we start we cannot be stopped. 

[lonely-darksun]

yall we (I) have had a evolution. I was scrolling through Tumblr as one does, when I came across sorry I cannot spell your name for the life of me hold on, 1nt3rn3t4ng3I I believe, hope I spelled it right. Anyhow, I was scrolling and I saw a post about some requested user boxes, and one of them, one of them was this:

and uh oh bois.

uh oh

Because like. Timber wolves were the only species of wolves that I could find that had a similar shape and habitat to what I know I had. But this little dude. This little dude. Looks exactly like me.

So, like any rational wolf would, I immediatly searched these bad bois up. And low and behold. Guess whos an Alexander Archipelago Wolf. From what it looks like they live in Southeast Alaska and Coastal British Columbia, which sounds like the right kind of terrain and weather. Coldish, but not extremely, and all the pictures of these little Wolfie's are in forests or the snow which is me. They also are rarely seen together as a pack unless its in winter which also matches up my fellow creatures. Their coloring also appears to be darker, which might explain why its harder for me to relate to wolves irl with lighter colors. They just don't look like me, yk?

Conclusion: this numbskull behind the computer has found (at least for now) there wolf. Completely accidentally lmao. Also. Am questioning if I was confusing my fox behavior for some other kind of canine, and the specifics of jumping around in the snow the way they do was more wolf related. We'll see how that goes lmao. Might go research about hyenas and different kinds of jackals and coyotes, while being in denile.

[hiifemme]

As promised, my post on the lobby yesterday

Over 3000 showed up to lobby their member of Parliament and urge them to vote for the Scottish National Party's motion for an immediate ceasefire, to replace the current government motion for a stop of humanitarian aid.

The motion did not pass, in fact it did not even get voted on. Which is what the MPs came there to do.

"As the war in Gaza continues to cause death, destruction, and terror, with over 30,000 people reported dead so far, British MPs couldn't even decide how to decide what they think about it"

The thousands of people who waited outside Parliament were left in the wind and rain with no explanation, as security let very few of us in. I was there 3 hours and got nowhere near the front, people AT the front said they did not get in. The MPs knew we came to lobby. We have a right to lobby and speak to our MPs. We organised and showed up in our thousands, but Parliament didn't accomplish anything. What is the state of democracy in this country?

People of the UK, KEEP SHOWING UP FOR PALESTINE. Make the national demonstration on Saturday 9th March the biggest so far. Spread the word of it everywhere, encourage people you know to show up.

Our government is pathetic and spineless and they are panicking under our pressure. ONE HUNDRED (!) Labour MPs were planning to rebel against their leader and vote for immediate ceasefire. Do not let up.

[lovsome]

i think im gonna ask my therapist to get me an appointment with the private psychiatrist she suggested

[meatriarch]

im still on my fuckshit but when i think of cc maria ( by extension also nosy maria but specifically noting the isolation aspect of cc );

can you imagine one day skimming the paper. its been a few weeks since all the commotion knowing your friends' had attempted to come find you but then were chased off. never actually heard or saw any of them, but you know they were around.

but you've been moved from the cells to a mattress upstairs. you're given more freedom, more wiggle room, you're allowed to do things - little hobby-type activities - you're given better foods, you're looked after by the older woman at the other house. the man who took you, who terrifies you still to some degree, slowly doesn't feel like such a stranger anymore, you're right to still be cautious around him but as the days, the weeks, pass by, there's simply a different air about him, and in the shack. lighter, in a sense.

you find yourself growing used to the new daily - the new routine. of waking to the sound of him getting ready for the day, of being left alone in there for hours sometimes, others trailing after him like a duckling, around the older womans' property, helping with an array of tasks. and you worry about upsetting her at first, unsure if doing so will earn a knife to the throat. you listen, you do as you're told, you find some kind of way to co-exist - all the while still, in the back of your mind, there's still a ray of hope,

that maybe, maybe, since the rest of them got away - that they're merely licking their wounds, that they'll get word out and even with all the silence since they had been on the property, there's that shred of hope that maybe? someone will waltz in, guns blazing so to speak, and you'll get out of this hell finally.

that is, until that day - that you're skimming through the paper, and you recognize yourself in a little column - and you realize you're staring at your own fucking obituary.

and in that moment everything seems solidified.

you're never getting away.

there's no point in it.

there's no one out there who are still trying to find you, get you back, bring you home, back to your mothers' arms, back to being an older sister, back to the circle of friends you loved so dearly.

you're dead.

not just to the world, but to those you loved - those who claimed to have loved you, too.

what else do you have at that point? where else do you go, even if you still tried to leave? who wouldn't look at you sideways for the blood that's already stained your hands? for the flesh caught between teeth?

who else is there, except the one murmuring encouragement and praise in your ear?

the only constant you've had in all these weeks? whose words rang true - clearly - that no one cared? that they abandoned you? left you there, didn't even care to make sure you were alive or not? only thought of themselves and got the fuck outta there without confirming if you were even still alive.

[meatriarchived]

i did not sleep yay for me im still on my fuckshit but when i think of cc maria ( by extension also nosy maria but specifically noting the isolation aspect of cc );

can you imagine one day skimming the paper. its been a few weeks since all the commotion knowing your friends' had attempted to come find you but then were chased off. never actually heard or saw any of them, but you know they were around.

but you've been moved from the cells to a mattress upstairs. you're given more freedom, more wiggle room, you're allowed to do things - little hobby-type activities - you're given better foods, you're looked after by the older woman at the other house. the man who took you, who terrifies you still to some degree, slowly doesn't feel like such a stranger anymore, you're right to still be cautious around him but as the days, the weeks, pass by, there's simply a different air about him, and in the shack. lighter, in a sense.

you find yourself growing used to the new daily - the new routine. of waking to the sound of him getting ready for the day, of being left alone in there for hours sometimes, others trailing after him like a duckling, around the older womans' property, helping with an array of tasks. and you worry about upsetting her at first, unsure if doing so will earn a knife to the throat. you listen, you do as you're told, you find some kind of way to co-exist - all the while still, in the back of your mind, there's still a ray of hope,

that maybe, maybe, since the rest of them got away - that they're merely licking their wounds, that they'll get word out and even with all the silence since they had been on the property, there's that shred of hope that maybe? someone will waltz in, guns blazing so to speak, and you'll get out of this hell finally.

that is, until that day - that you're skimming through the paper, and you recognize yourself in a little column - and you realize you're staring at your own fucking obituary.

and in that moment everything seems solidified.

you're never getting away.

there's no point in it.

there's no one out there who are still trying to find you, get you back, bring you home, back to your mothers' arms, back to being an older sister, back to the circle of friends you loved so dearly.

you're dead.

not just to the world, but to those you loved - those who claimed to have loved you, too.

what else do you have at that point? where else do you go, even if you still tried to leave? who wouldn't look at you sideways for the blood that's already stained your hands? for the flesh caught between teeth?

who else is there, except the one murmuring encouragement and praise in your ear?

the only constant you've had in all these weeks? whose words rang true - clearly - that no one cared? that they abandoned you? left you there, didn't even care to make sure you were alive or not? only thought of themselves and got the fuck outta there without confirming if you were even still alive.

[spockulative]

shout out to tbb s2 ep4 for giving me my favorite tech expression to date

[eebie]

oo you wanna say literally every thought you've ever had about your ocs soo bad (wants to know what their deal is)

ugouguhghhgnnnghhhhh ^ My thoughts on them