#oh to be a small rabbit

[mxmoth]

FARGO | S02E03 | The Myth of Sisyphus

[canisalbus]

I was thinking of Machete and his sheep toy 🐑

Also sorry I keep drawing him, I just love him so much ♡

.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

This new official yi city art from the Japanese audio drama reminds me so much of the essence of your creachers .. personally I think they're taking inspiration from your wonderful fellas

https://twitter.com/mimifm11/status/1679083183613300736?t=IslUVs4um6QsmoIG1iEYYg&s=19

They're in the recording booth!!!!

[taffydragondraws]

Don't think I shared this one here yet? One day I was laying on the floor doodling and I had Bluey on for background noise, and the Seesaw episode came on.

[bunnymerchandise]

Playmobil Rabbit Hutch

[downtherabbitholewithlucy]

|Limp Bizkit's cover of "Billie Jean" (2009)|

[player-1]

Me, being hit with a late night brainwave: -I know for sure that the N1 protag has a canon name, I know I saw it from one of the concept/teaser/release trailers, but I can't figure out where! I've already combed through in from the official channel and I can't find it! I know his name is perpetually blank in Extinction cause it's a completely different game (and devs just leaving it up to interpretation), of course he's the nameless hero cause he's never mentioned by name in his own game too (though it's extra funny that the Micromon protag had their name mentioned more than five times), but still! I know I don't want to look for the official Discord channel to get it from the big man himself, but I know it exists, believe me!!

[hyp3rfixation-h3ll]

happy international lesbian day. have some disaster lesbian bonz-eye for your disaster lesbian needs (feat. an OrangeTree doodle <3)

[bleedeverywhere]

how stupid, how frigging, fucking stupid he was

[muchmossymess]

I need to stop sleeping all day its giving me wild as fuck dreams

[lilnasxvevo]

Since teaching really does seem to be Lan Qiren’s passion I like to think about a modern Lan Qiren who is really good about pursuing possible diagnoses and treatment of learning/developmental disabilities of children entrusted to his care.

[meatriarch]

@johnnysslaughter

it has been five months. it marks the occasion, circled on calendar in blue ink -- information that he had obtained some time ago, prior, in conversation. in other conversations that he overhears, particularly at the hewitts, where he overhears between the ladies. luda had made them chocolate chip cookies that day, he remembers -- maria was thankful & they ended up having a tangent about sweets. while he didn't butt in, it became useful information for now. it was her birthday. he had went out, as soon as he saw his mother take off to who-knows-where, & got her a couple things. it was silly. he could imagine the nagging his ma would give to him. it wasn't anything fancy. he couldn't afford it. but, it was something. he had tried to make the little table in his shack presented better -- freshly cleaned, the curtains pulled over to let the sunshine in. a chocolate cake, on the smaller side, but enough for the two of them for a couple of days, sat center. next to it, a small bouquet of flowers from the farm that were ready to be plucked. & last, a small rabbit plush that sat in her seat for her to pick up -- something about it calling her name when he saw it, he'd say. there were two plates on each side & a set of silverware. one plate reserved for the cake, the other chalked full with lunch. opted for some vegetables for sides, found some nice beef he could make something out of. he sat a 6 pack of beer onto the table, along with some water. choices. everything was ready. when it was ready, he started the descend into the basement, moving rug covering the drop-down aside. took him no time to get down & find the cell she was in. the cold, silent cell -- unknown to what little of his ma's hallucinogens have made its way. he removes the key from his pocket, his head tilting.

❛ y' comin' upstairs with me for a minute, ❜ he made his expression hard to read, on purpose. never knowing of what it was that he wanted to take her to go do. he walks closer to her, bending down to unlock the locks with the key, standing back up, offering his hand to help her up. he stays behind her, a hand that lingers on her shoulder, sticking close. tempting to mention how she should know the way by now, with her escape attempts -- opts not to. hand removes from her shoulder when they get to the ladder, he watches her ascend the latter, slower, & he follows when there's enough room for both of them. when she gets to the top, she stands, waiting, him speeding his ascend up the ladder. a soft nod is given to her, letting himself go ahead of her, to lead her into the general living area of the shack -- his eyes falling to the table all set up. the steam was still going on the freshly cooked lunch. a smile comes to his lips, his head turns to look at maria, to gauge her expression. he opts to wrap an arm around her, to take her in closer, let her see what was all before her. he gives her a moment to figure it out. waits until her head turns to look at him, confused. ❛ happy birthday, babygirl, ❜ he simply says, moving to pull out her chair, bending to lift the plush to give to her, welcoming her to have a seat, him to push her chair in when she sits before he rounds the table to his spot, taking himself a seat. ❛ i know it ain't much. ❜

it was always a guessing game, when she'd hear that jingle of keys from the other side of the cell door — of what he came down there for. what he wanted her to do, where he wanted to take her. in the weeks she's been there, with him, maria — in spite of growing used to this new routine, this new normal of him coming and going. bringing her food and drink, taking her out to the house on the property, inside when his mother was out to get cleaned up — there still nestled knots and frays that coiled in her gut every time she spotted that shadowed figure of him through the small gaps in the door.

he never hurt her — for that, she was thankful. ( she's seen what he can do to a person . . . )

today was like all the others that ticked on before it. the jolt and bristle, instinctively, upon realizing he was just outside of the cell he kept her in, silent he can so easily be, left her in shock every time he seemingly appeared from thin air. she's grown to realize — in spite of the lingering drives in her from time to time to escape — that complying without fuss brought her to a better standing with johnny, and today felt best to simply listen and do.

and so when his voice calls out that she's going up, out of the basement, into the small shack overhead? she listens. offers out restraints with a small nod of understanding, let's him unlock and drop them, and leaves the cell, climbs up the ladder up into shack without complaint. eyes follow him as he comes up after her, standing beside the opening in the floor, and trails behind him as he makes his way into the shack itself, pausing when he suddenly does, and eyes fall on the little scene ahead of them—

uncertainty in her features fade into surprise, as gaze takes in and registers what shes looking at — the flowers, the cake, the plated food — the little rabbit sitting on the chair—

flinch doesn't come over her, this time, when the weight of his arm goes around her, draws her closer to him. thoughts fizzing in and out, confusion settling in, eyes flick over to calendar on the wall, but she's no idea what day its meant to be, she's been here so long—

it's august already?

head whips up to look at him, and no doubt she looks entirely lost when she meets his eyes, and starts to open mouth to question what he brought her up there for, when his voice fills the air, and her stomach drops down into the pit of her gut — eyes widening, stunned on different fronts—

five months she's been here, with him? its august— i'm twenty-two now? he knows my birthday? when did he—

she moves without thinking, really — sitting herself down when he goes to pull chair out, holding plushed rabbit out to her. her confusion melts little by little, and moreso as she slowly accepts the soft little thing, cradling it in her hands. its little beady eyes looking up at her, soft to the touch. words seem lost to her as a baseline of television buzzing rings in her ears lowly. eyes flickering from the rabbit in her hands, to the plate set in front of her, to the cake, to the flowers blooming colors. confusion continues to melt away, tick by tick of the clock, his voice sounding out, it ain't much, he says—

— and yet, to someone who has virtually nothing anymore . . . ?

this was everything—

rabbit is held closer to herself. comforting, the little thing is. theres a sting in her eyes, along the bridge of nose, as the edges of vision haze as saltwater draws itself in. theres a tremble, beneath lower lip, that she does her best to stifle. he had no reason at all to do any of this. to even think of such a day, remember it. mark it down, even. yet he did—

her head finally gives a small shake, and she swallows down the urge in her to want to cry. maria didn't think she would have lived to see her twenty-second — let alone, have it celebrated in any way. a tear streaks itself down cheek, and quickly she goes to swipe it away, flustering as she stammers out, finding her voice finally, " i - i'm sorry— th - thank you, i didn't . . . i didn't even realize it was, i mean, you didn't need to— "

what can one even say? the words feel foreign, strange, tumbling out of her as she scrambles for some kind of response to him — rabbit still clutched close to herself — a comfort she didn't realize she needed. it was like her childhood stuffed rabbit, long forgotten, by now, back at her apartment . . .

" i - i don't— i don't really know what to say, i - i'm sorry, " another tear, two, three, make their way down her cheeks, and again, each is quickly swept away by fingertips, looks across the table at him again, " t - thank you, johnny— " and she means it, truly. its small, yes — a simple little gesture. the flowers, the rabbit, the cake — but . . . its the fact, underlying each of those, that he even took the time and effort to remember at all, when he had no real reason to—

maria's eyes drop from him down to the rabbits little face, and a smile start to play at the corners of her mouth at it. its something — even if small. " she's so cute, i love her — thank you. " hazels lift again to meet his, and briefly, smile grows, shows little dimples at either side of her lips.

[pawbeanies]

I’m not really a puppy but I’m a bunny and I’d love to play with you! I can handle roughhousing! ໒꒰ྀི˶˃ᆺ˂˶ ꒱ྀིა

!!!!! bunny !!!!! of course we can play it's okay... rolling around with you running around in circles lets PLAY ... you're too cute i cannot help it wtf .!!!!!!

[blyszczopies]

i loove it how u can put a small thing on a rabbit and they just. dont care. they will not move unless they have to and thats when the things gonna fall. not because the bunny is bothered by it

though. i need to point out that some of the stuff seen on the photos from that blog look too big/heavy to be put on a bunny head:--/

[groupwest]

sorry for sleeping in, every night i lay restless awake in bed thinking about about all the animals i’ve loved that my mother has killed, and i wonder if it’s exactly that which made me who i am.. that’s all

[iamthepulta]

Hi. You're encountering a newly-birthed Lapulta rising from the vestiges of an ionic salt vat to inform you that the chemical process to chromium-tan leather and the process to create fabric from bamboo and wood pulps is functionally the same and I distrust fast-fashion enough that I doubt they're using N-Methylmorpholine N-oxide, which is the alternative to salts.

If you're going to buy leather (sustainable over the long-haul), buy veg-tanned leather.

Probably don't buy bamboo textiles.

There's a small chance the rayon factories are using salts in a responsible manner, but it's fast fashion. I doubt it. You also can't trace a shirt back to a factory and find that factory's fabric processing facility to ensure sustainable rayon fabric. The company should be doing that for you, but... you know.

With leather at least, you know if it's vegetable-tanned or chrome-tanned because the leather looks and feels different.

I need to call my ochem friend and get him to price-compare the two chemicals. I assume that's what the real judgement hinges on.