Hollyloveschaos - AintGotAClue

I’m both pro herbal medicine and pro vaccination because you can treat burns with aloe vera juice and sore throats with lavender infused honey but you can’t rid a country of polio with plants. 

Twitch

aimsey - Twitch

aimsey - Twitch

Aimsey’s (trying) to finish FNAF!! Come support them!!

This was too long for a comment so I have to reblog, sorry if that bothers you!

I took the “that was the last me” line to mean that that was the previous him and each time he is caught and killed he gets a new body to once again be caught and killed. There is a pile of past Edwin’s in the corner, he’s been at this for a while.

Interesting thought about him dying in hell the first time around though, would possibly explain the time difference between sacrifice and death. Even though it’s kind of a large discrepancy, like at least 6-7 hours between sacrifice and death, maybe it’s because Sa’al felt bad for him and it was whoever he was traded to next that killed him? Maybe he struggled so, so hard to stay alive those extra hours? Maybe it was supposed to be 1:00 am and there was a typo? (My personal favorite option) Maybe it’s Maybeline?

There are still soooo many questions I have about his time in hell, especially since he talks about being traded from demon to demon to demon to “something worse than a demon” which I took to mean that he wasn’t always in the Dollhouse. So where was he before then?? On one hand I desperately want to know everything that happened to him and on the other I very, very much do not.

Also (tw: homophobia), Mary-Ann, what Simon and Gang were calling Edwin and chanting when they sacrificed him was slang for gay/effeminate men, so it’s quite possible that people figured out or at the very least suspected that he was gay and considering the overall attitude towards queer people in the early 1900s, that could very easily be at least part of the reason his disappearance was considered an “act of God.” Of course, this is just my own interpretation of events and everyone is entitled to their own interpretations, I just thought I’d share! Have a great day/night!

I just had a realisation.

In the Payne/Rowland file the Night Nurse has, it says that Edwin died around noon (1:00 pm), and not at night, I mean, when the satanic ritual was performed. Does that mean that Saal took him to hell alive?

There was no blood covering his face when he took him, but Edwin tells Charles "this is the last me" when he asks about it. So are you telling me he died in hell?

His disappearance was label an act from God, that means he was gone, they never found a body, probably his grave is empty (?). The demon he was sacrificed to, took him to hell and he died there, being torture, and it wasn't fast.

And... that was the last him?

The Barbie movie: The Ken's need to find who they are outside of pursuing Barbies, a clear allegory for how real life men should not define themselves by trying to attract a partner and building their personality around that, something that would be healthier and better for them overall

Misogynists: barbie movie is so anti-men :(( how could they do this :((((

handsome women covered in blood. reblog.

do u speak french 🇫🇷⁉️

reblogs and screaming in tags is always appreciated <33

I love her. I’m in love with her. I have been for years. I want her, to have and to hold, for better and through worse, for the rest of my life. I used to say that I wanted to be a part of her, a heart, a lung, a leg, anything. Not because I wanted to be her, no, but because I wanted to know her, better than anyone, so I could know what she needed, how best to help her. I want to be there with her through everything. I want to come home from work and cuddle up to her on the couch, to listen to her talk about her day, or her dreams, or anything.

I want her in all the ways someone can want someone else. I want to be her best friend, her lover, her comrade. I want the be the first person she calls when she needs to talk, when she wants to share good news, or bad news, when it’s late at night and she can’t sleep. I want to kiss her, and hold her, and sleep under the stars. I want to tumble into bed with her, to tease her about her bed head in the morning. I want to learn to cook her favorite foods in a kitchen we share. I want to dance with her, to watch her trip over her own two feet and laugh at herself. God, how often I make a fool of myself to hear that laugh. I want to see every expression she can make. I want hear every noise. I want to see the most beautiful parts of the world with her, because she’s the most beautiful part of mine.

I want to hear all the family drama. I want to go to her family get togethers. I want her to come to mine. I want to show her off to everyone I know. I want them all to see how much I love her. I want them to tell her how every time I look at her my love is so apparent it makes them want to hurl. I want her to smile and laugh and agree. I want her mother to invite me into her family with open arms and I want her to be welcomed into mine.

I want to share my life with her. I want her to share her life with me. I’m in love with her, I have been for years, and I think I always will be. But I know these wants can’t come to pass. She doesn’t love me back, but it’s fun to dream.

The lack of understanding in cishets as to why we need pride flags is staggering. I literally had someone say, "I drink too much. You don't see me going to a church with a martini flag." It's because, for a trans queer like me, the assumption is that most people would rather I not be in public space. It may not be the case, but I need to treat a gun like it's loaded. All it takes is one bigot to ruin my day, or worse. I don't think I could go into a church without running a risk, and I sure as hell ain't going near one that doesn't have a pride flag.

The pride flag is not just a sign of I'm proud of who I am. It is a sign that I am welcome here. It is a sign I can exist in the space without the threat of violence or harassment. It is a sign of community. A sign that there are people out there like me. It is a sign of being seen, safety, and belonging.

We deserve that.