Ssup3rst4rr - ₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧Snowy Tundra✧⁺₊⋆☾⋆.˚₊

Reblog to give a trans woman a delicious Cuban sandwich

NO BC THE SAME THING HAPPENED TO ME WHEN I HAD MADE A PLUSH AND SOMEONE SAID THEY'D PAY $10 FOR IT

still thinking about the brainrot that fast fashion has caused in people, like i made this pair of pants that are black and white with a cool flowery design, and an acquaintance saw them and said "wow i'd pay like 20 dollars for you to make me a pair" and i could barely think with how utterly horrified i was at that; i told them that 20 dollars wouldn't even cover the materials, let alone the hours of work that went into cutting, sewing, ironing, hemming, altering, etc. they just had this look on their face when i told them that, when i said i wouldn't make them a pair for even 100 dollars because that was still way too low of an amount, a look that said "you're crazy for thinking that those cost 100 dollars" and maybe i am crazy but holy shit, 20 dollars for a pair of handmade, durable, lined pants fitted specifically to your measurements? 20 dollars for upwards of 60 hours of work? 20 dollars for several yards of high-quality fabric, thread, and buttons? 20 dollars???

oh! So I should go fuck myself. I am a ambulatory wheelchair user, epileptic, and still finding out more. Gotta bring the fiance to canada then.

Oh project 2025 isn’t going to happen you’re being paranoid-

What the absolute fuck is this then? This country is so fucked.

Pov: You're obsessed with your mute best friend and he finally realizes that there is no way to make you not love him.

The way my eyes lingered on his fingers wasn’t subtle—I didn’t care if he noticed. No one else had the right to see what I saw, to crave the way I craved. He flexed his hands under my unwavering gaze, his movements hesitant, as if my attention burned into his skin. Then, as if surrendering to the moment, he began to sign, slowly, deliberately, every motion agonizingly precise. It was a performance, and I was his only audience. The words were for me alone, crafted in gestures only I could truly understand.

"Everything I am is yours," he signed, his eyes locking onto mine, desperate, pleading. My breath hitched as his gaze searched my face for a reaction, for validation. But he didn’t need to search. Didn’t he see? Didn’t he know? He belonged to me. Not just his hands, but every inch of him—his heart, his mind, his very existence. If he didn’t understand that yet, I’d make him. I’d carve it into his soul if I had to.

Because no one else could have him. No one else deserved him.

reblog to make prev stop having headaches

two types of cats

I use these for my roleplays all the time

some fucking resources for all ur writing fuckin needs

* body language masterlist

* a translator that doesn’t eat ass like google translate does

* a reverse dictionary for when ur brain freezes

* 550 words to say instead of fuckin said

* 638 character traits for when ur brain freezes again

* some more body language help

(hope this helps some ppl)