This is the first of 6 pieces I’ll be making of lightsabers and flowers: Anakin, Carnations and Tulips

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This is the first of 6 pieces I’ll be making of lightsabers and flowers: Anakin, Carnations and Tulips

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Some other willing dupe cozened by his useful—if elderly—apprentice, Darth Tyranus. The one keeping a seat warm for Anakin, who was ripening so nicely. Really coming along.
🕷️MANDA🕷️
self-destruct
Anakin Skywalker 💔
Print made for Fan Expo Chicago 2024. Signed by Hayden Christensen at the event.

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The Definition Of Awkward Silence
you're pretty.
so I got into grad school today with my shitty 2.8 gpa and the moral of the story is reblog those good luck posts for the love of god
okay so i just got my dream job??? a week after applying to it?? and now i’m thinking….maybe this is the good luck post
…..not even six hours later i got an offer of a well paying full time long-term job with free room and board in queens in nyc, allowing me independence and a way to escape an abusive situation and an unhealthy environment
likes charge reblogs cast, folks, this is the good luck post
I’m finally reblogging one of these, I did it for the The Good Place reference honestly.
hoping to pass the next organic chem exam 🙏💕
Hoping to get approved for early admission to vet school!!!
Hoping to get a job at what appears to be my dream clinic
Do any other american high schoolers have intense survivor’s guilt and trauma with school shootings even though they weren’t at your school?
Like. A laser tag place opened geared towards teenagers and it got no business, we tried to enjoy it but when someone pointed a laser machine gun at me and I instinctively dropped behind the nearest wall and reached to turn off my phone I cried, I wasn’t the only one. The announcements system turns on at an unexpected time and everyone holds their breath until they say something besides “locks, lights, out of sight,” nobody even jokingly pops chip bags anymore, a door slammed really loud during a class change and everyone dropped and ran. Everyone cries during drills, even the toughest ranch kids. Every drill comes with a full day of teachers crying and telling us that they love us all so much and will die for us, and every kid in every class looking around wondering who would I die for? Who would die for me? You walk to the bathroom and wonder every second if it happens right now, where will I go? You test supply closet doors to see which ones are unlocked, you memorize which furniture in the teachers’ lounge your English teacher says is light enough to barricade a door with. The fire alarm goes off and nobody moves, instead you wait for gunshots—it a trap? You stand with a group of freshmen and realize that you’re the oldest, you know you’ll have to die for them. You forget your ID tag and worry that now the police won’t be able to tell your parents if you’re safe, or not safe. Your stats teacher has a baseball bat by the door, your math teacher keeps a stapler under each desk to throw, your drama teacher asks who will be willing to stand by the non-locking door with the Shakespearean swords. Your yearbook teacher tells you don’t worry about breaking a camera because you heard about the kids who died holding them. You don’t use the bathroom during classes because you don’t want to be the only target to shoot at. You keep your phone on silent 24/7 because you worry the one time you forget will be when you get your whole US History class killed. You have a snap saved with your class schedule and school and full name to send in an instant to your internet friends so they know if you were on that wing, you have a note saved with the things you want your mom to know and the things you’re sorry for. At the age of 12 I was told I needed to know who I would die for and that it was okay if it was nobody, that was my decision to make. School shootings control us more than adults and non-Americans could possibly imagine and nobody moves to change anything unless we’re actively screaming for it. Have you considered we’re too scared?
The absolute fuck. The fuck did I just read. This sounds like dystopian fiction. The fucking fuck.
It isn’t. This is 100% the reality of all American children - not the ones that live in bad neighborhoods, not the ones that make bad choices, ALL OF THEM.
Welcome to America.

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FACT:
Usage of the word “The” has begun to decline. This is because as more and more people become educated, usage of the word “Thoum’st” has become more common.
How far can you go down the wrong path before you can’t get back on the right one?
Carolee Dean (via quotemadness)
So my friend works in the sound booth at his church and during the sermon, the preacher started bashing on gay people, so my friend muted him. Literally muted his preachers microphone I
Direct action
chaotic good
miss job hunting back in the day when you could just ride into town on a horse and be like “i’m a doctor” and everybody was like “cool no need to see if that checks out or anything”
This post has big John mulaney energy

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Jewish and Muslim people go on Chopped and are made to cook with pork and they make it work, one vegan goes on and refuses to use any meat products he’s given and they have an all veggie episode for him.
The final basket had honey in it and e refers to it as a total nightmare scenario. Go talk to the Muslim woman who knocked out a pork loin without being able to taste her dish about dealing with nightmare baskets
My mum was watching a baking show where a 20 year old Muslim woman was a contestant. They had to make an alcoholic dessert. She nailed it despite not being able to taste it. When she mentioned that she couldnt (not as a complaint or excuse) everyone gawked at her and someone said “how old are you???”. Like, really?
I saw that one! Seemed like purposeful sabotage when your contestant can neither religiously or legally taste the ingredient
Cultural insensitivity and racism in media?
Unheard of!
this is SO funny
The idea that, if Eleven and Matilda ever met they would be enemies or fight is totally ludicrous. Matilda would take one look in Eleven’s lost, angry eyes, and take her in. She’d be patient and thorough, teaching her new words every day, and they would share chocolates and roller skate and have regular kid fun. Matilda would show her board games but Eleven would insist on cards. They’d both cheat and see who was better at getting away with it. Eleven would teach Matilda how to move larger objects with her powers and be utterly fucking thrilled by the story of revenge on Ms. Trunchbull.
They would be thick as thieves and no one can convince me otherwise.