Latest Posts by thebeautifuldaydreamer - Page 8
So...are we all just a bunch of gays with anxiety?
17, 夏
ig / twitter / prints
i put 1 cause why not.. anyway cant believe 2020 is closer than 2012
when people ask where you see yourself in 10 years
If you had a child by choice, you:
signed up for an autistic child
signed up for a trans child
signed up for a lgbq+ child
signed up for a mentally ill child
signed up for a disabled child
signed up for a child with "conditions"
signed up for a rebellious child
signed up for a kid. in any way, shape, or form of being, it's your child, and you signed up for it.
And you are not:
the victim in any of these fucking situations for gods sake
See More Daily Facts Here!
i miss her so i draw her
I have no relevant skills.
I am unpleasant to work with.
I like to cause problems.
tiny brain: brooklyn nine nine isnt cop propaganda
average brain: brooklyn nine nine IS cop propaganda and that means u cant watch it
giant brain: brooklyn nine nine is absolutely cop propaganda and 1 episode about the treatment of black people by cops in no way fixes that, however i still watch and enjoy it because i am a mature person with critical thinking skills who understands that boycotting every problematic piece of media is a fruitless endeavor. especially because boycotting b99 specifically would mean sacrificing the many other great things it brings to tv, including its humor, its diversity, its strong & well-rounded female characters, its presentation of healthy friendships & relationships, its subversion of harmful stereotypes, and its constant social commentary on political issues such as transphobia, gun control, flaws in the prison system etc which other shows wouldnt DARE touch
OOOOOH
contrary to popular belief black cats are good luck actually because they are baby
Cassandra Jean - http://cassandrajp.tumblr.com - https://www.instagram.com/cassieclare1 - http://cassandrajeanart.blogspot.com.es - https://twitter.com/CassandraJP - https://society6.com/cassandrajean
trans girls
TWO MONTHS LEFT OF THE 2010S HOW ARE WE FEELING
when people ask where you see yourself in 10 years
Hi!!
i need witchy blogs to follow, so please interact with this if you're a witch, especially if you post:
hellinc pantheon (especially hestia)
kitchen
cottage
green
hedge
seasonal (especially fall and spring)
german mythology/folklore (trying to get back in touch w my roots!)
death/bones
astral projection type stuff
the good folk
tarot/pedulum work
diy/arts and crafts
please dni if you:
do not belive men can be witches
are against "evil" magic
are generally a purist (in terms of race, gender, orientation or ethnicity) or are gonna gatekeep
thank you!!! blessed be, yall!!!
they call me a snacc cuz I'm coated in maple syrup and they can't catch me
November 7, 1918
Clara and I visited the science fair in the town centre. It was such a lovely evening and they showcased some extraordinary inventions. Clara was especially fond of the Photorama.
Clara has recently had an affinity towards making imaginary friends. She names this one “Patches” and says that he has a metal claw for a left arm and lives in the wooded area near our house. Such an inventive imagination.
Every morning for the past week, Clara gathers herself a lunch for her and Patches and strolls into the woods to play. I much prefer that she spend her time outdoors than to be cooped up inside, drawing all day.
God in Heaven, the sound of screams alerted Miss Cassidy and I into a horrible sight. Clara came running with a large cut on her arm, crying that Patches had done it. The foolish child, she must have injured herself by climbing a tree.
Three days have passed since that incident. I caught Clara talking out one of the windows (presumably to Patches).
She sounded… Apologetic.
I can tell that she misses the outdoors.
Heavens above, the boy is real!
Running back inside, my heart sank to my stomach as I lay eyes on the boy. How long has he been living in the woods near our house!?
After much consideration (and insistence from Clara to help him) We allowed him inside. The poor boy was closer to a cadaver than a living child and he did indeed have a metal prosthetic for a left arm.
The boy is absolutely restless, twitching and shaking unnaturally. It took us a few hours to try and calm him down. He doesn’t seem to be able to speak or know where he is.
My daughter is beyond a doubt, the bravest and kindest soul I know. She is able to comfort this boy and insists on being by his side at all times. He must have been utterly starved, as the moment we presented him with food, he devoured it within seconds.
Christ, I may just faint and die.
The boy never seems to rest and has been roaming the halls all night.
I don’t know how she managed, but Clara surprised me this morning by presenting a well dressed Patches (the clothes were her father’s, from when he was a child).
Patches seems to be less fidgety than before.
The boy is still unable to speak, but he seems to display an unbounded curiosity.
A man came by the house late at night. He seemed disheveled and desperate. He was asking about his missing son and if we had seen him by any chance.
I told him that I had not.
When I asked for his name, he said that it was ‘Avram.’ He did not give me his son’s name, though.
The name ‘Avram’ sounded familiar, so I looked through our old newspapers to see if I had recognized his name.
Sure enough, I found it. He had been a well respected scientist who recently lost his son, Mason. The boy was mangled to pieces in an industrial accident.
…Mason.
Miss Cassidy believes we should inform the authorities of the situation. I would be inclined to agree, yet I fear that Mason would be exposed to even more danger if we do that.
I can’t bear to imagine the poor boy being studied or put to death like some lab specimen.
I awoke late at night to cries and rustling. But instead of finding Mason, I saw Miss Cassidy at the bottom of the stairs! She’s alive, thank heavens, but is knocked unconscious.
I find Avram clutching my daughter with a pistol to her head. He demands that I bring Mason to him, but I don’t know where he could be.
Like a phantom, Mason suddenly appears, slowly making his way towards Avram. I am reunited with Clara, unharmed.
I could barely register what had just happened. Mason sliced Avram’s face wide open, giving us a chance to escape.
We ran into the woods, with Avram giving chase right behind us.
I knew that no matter what, we had to run as far and as fast as we could, lest we get shot. Amidst the chase, Mason had split from us and headed down a separate path, leading Avram away from us.
Clara and I never looked back. As we ran, the night was filled with screams and gunshots.
Clara and I made it out of the woods by morning. We never saw Mason or Avram ever again. It was as though it had been a nightmare.
[Mason and Avram]
unknown cryptid
bigfoot, but fully shaved
I know only three states of being: godless hubris, righteous fury, and hapless melancholia
This is an absolute religious experience that I was not prepared for
@i8orart and I went to Toy Fair today and saw something we probably weren’t supposed to see