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!!!

Reblog this if its okay for your followers to introduce themselves to you.

Just come to my ask box and tell me stuff about yourself. Your pets. Your favorite music. What you had for breakfast this morning. Literally anything you want, I love making new friends

Hell yeah! Cousin time!!

HIGHLY recommend stealing a tumblr mutual for a day like hehe lemme drive you around and we can be silly all day and you’re stuck with me in my car :3

when sherlock said “taking your own life. interesting expression, taking it from who? once it's over, it's not you who'll miss it. your own death is something that happens to everyone else. your life is not your own, keep your hands off it.” i almost cried

Absolutely gorgeous!!!

🐇 rabbithunter 🐇

Sylvia Plath, from The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath; entry no. 102

reblog if you’ve read fanfictions that are more professional, better written than some actual novels. I’m trying to see something

a grand fire, burns the forest into anew. A different forest will grow and thrive on these lands,

we hope you come to stay 🍀🌲

{ A blog revamp is coming soon! }

dan and phil is cocomelon for 20 year old trans mascs

THIS. But atlas I cant find any rp communities or other critters :( ?

where yall at?? 😭

im not sure how many critters know this or have considered this but roleplay is a really great way to explore your nonhuman/therian/otherkin identity as well as alleviate species dysphoria!!

It's also so easy to get into as theres no requirements other than someone else to rp with, theres no limitations, you can be as simple or as complex as you want.

I used to role-play warrior cats (text); so much so I was writing paragraphs for my turn because it felt so real, like i was describing and living a life i was meant to have myself. Miss it quite a bit tbh!!

EVERY GIRL IS A MISSING PERSON

I wanted to go out soft, undone at the seams (no stitches, no staples, just silk & surrender)—wanted to be so lovely they couldn’t look away. My mother said I was fragile but she didn’t mean it like glass—she meant I looked like something that could starve in the wrong hands (she meant don’t let them touch you).

I kept secrets under my tongue—names, dates, dosages—small enough to swallow but heavy enough to drown in. I pressed flowers into my notebooks, but they always rotted (always turned black around the edges). I liked the smell.

In school, I learned about animals that eat their young. Mercy, the teacher called it, but I saw the way she flinched. What’s softer than survival? What’s prettier than a girl who disappears just in time?

I wrote letters I never sent, folded them small enough to slip between teeth—I wanted to leave them something [a word, a bruise, a map]—wanted them to know I was never sorry. I picked out dresses for the burial (blue like veins, pink like gums) & practiced lying still.

I always knew how it would end—knew the shape of it, the temperature, the weight. What’s one girl in a world full of them? What’s one more name carved into stone?