Black toddler girl hairstyles

My toddler just refuses to sleep recently and I'm afraid to leave the room because my oldest will have to suffer through the crying.
I've got two girls who share a room, 3 and 1.5. It's been two to three weeks that my youngest has just refused to sleep when I'm putting her to bed. My husband and I take turns tucking each of them in. My oldest takes time, but she eventually passes out. My youngest has gotten quite a growth spurt in the past month or so, making it much harder to hold her. I used to sit in my rocking chair, hold and soothe her to sleep, but her legs are just too long and she gets uncomfortable.Recently, she constantly needs to hold her stuffed bunny while we rock her, but she also thinks it's funny to drop him as a game and will throw a fit if we don't pick him up again.
It's easier for my husband as he is taller with longer arms to hold her, but he has trouble occasionally too, often getting frustrated and leaving the room altogether until she calms down or passes out on her own.
We've tried just setting her in the crib and stroking her hair or back, but she just smiles and wants to play instead. She has severe separation anxiety, especially with me during bedtime. If either of us is out of view even for a few moments, she's standing up in her crib and looking for us.
Does anybody have any solutions? I feel bad just leaving her to cry as some of my relatives have suggested. Not because we haven't tried it. We did it with my first and it worked, but by doing so with the 2nd, my oldest is left to try and sleep through her sister's sobbing. It's just a difficult situation.

But is a guy with piercings a yes for girls??? For context I'm basically 6ft (like 5ft 11 3/4 inches) straight, brown hair, basically middle of my back length. Not bulky but not skinny, a decent in-between.
Also I'm not talking big stupid bulky things I'm more talking studs and maybe some bigger stuff but mostly small stuff.
Edit: yes I used myself as an example, I've been thinking about getting some for years as well as a tattoo but tattoos are extremely expensive rn and piercings aren't. I was thinking just normal black studs or maybe something bigger like a small ring (I don't know technical names for these things) obviously I'm not going straight to a barbell or a big ass gauge (If at all)

Clearly a lot of folks in this forum are queer, and this post is largely not for them, though I (bi- cis woman) will specifically talk about my experience as a bi-woman. Most of the folks in the forum who aren’t queer, though, generally support Pride. A number of people in this forum have talked about not feeling entirely comfortable attending Pride for various reasons, some of which come down to understanding what it means to be an ally. The linked article also has some really good advice.
1) Know why you’re there. The reason to attend an event like Pride as an ally is to show your support for the LGBTIQ+ community. To support that community means showing solidarity - like really, just pumping up the numbers can help make politicians a little more concerned when they want to use a sub-group in the LGBTIQ+ community as a punching bag to rally their allies. Spending a little money or volunteering or otherwise demonstrating support can also benefit the community. Something that really doesn’t help? Critiquing the community, or nit picking. I don’t care if you don’t like leather daddies, or drag queens, or trans people who don’t “pass”, this is their event, so put on your big adult pants and cope.
2) Sometimes it’s OK to be uncomfortable. Any time one is a member of the generally dominant group and one finds oneself in a situation where one is in a group where that dominance is not given the usual preference, it can be uncomfortable. As a white person, the first time I went to a civil rights rally was a huge eye opening experience. Everything around me growing up gave preference to white people - until that event. And then there I was, a teenage white girl in a place where I was a small racial minority, and Black people were being very explicitly being given the prominent positions - as they should given their role in the event and their far greater expertise in the subject matter. But did that make me feel comfortable? No. I was rewiring my brain to deal with a whole bunch of internalised racism and there was a lot of it. And holy kittens I learned a lot that day. The same is going to be true for a lot of straight folks.
3) Don’t make yourself someone else’s problem. It’s fine to be uncomfortable, but you need to deal with that yourself. It’s fine to not want to date someone of your sex, but it’s not OK to treat every gay person like they are going to force themselves on you because they’re not.
4) Other occasions also matter. For any number of reasons, Pride is not going to be the perfect event for everyone. Some folks don’t like crowds or noise. Some have other fears that may make the event more difficult. And, just showing up at pride doesn’t mean you’ve done your official “not a homo/trans phobe annual duty” so you don’t have to pay attention when people say or do awful things. You still need to speak up when people are shitty. And for some of you that speaking up might be a more comfortable way to show your support. And of course there is also voting.
And now the bi-part
This bit is more personal and very much does not reflect every bi-person’s experience. I easily pass as a cis straight woman. My first visits to Pride, I felt like such a poser, because I was dealing with the reality of not fully accepting my sexuality at an event where everyone around me was celebrating theirs. I felt like a poser because… I was a poser. That wasn’t anyone doing anything to me to make me feel uncomfortable, it was me making me feel uncomfortable. Recognising who to blame was key for me to feel a whole lot safer. And attending while I was coming to terms with what being bi- meant to me? That really helped me define it without hurting anyone else.
Now I’m a lot more comfortable, and… I also know that if my bi- boyfriend and I go to Pride this year, we’re going to look like a straight couple. And that is going to effect how other people see us. In the past when I’ve attended with a male partner, my partner and I have had straights tell us how awful various queer people and events are because they think we will be the right audience for that. I’ve also seen any number of straight people be openly rude to queer people at Pride. I’ve witnessed anti-Pride protesters at Pride events. And I’ve witnessed more than one bashing.
Because of that, I know that the vague mistrust some folks view me at pride has some justification. It’s not about me - it’s about the reality of being an obviously queer person in a world that isn’t set up to support queer people. Trust is earned. Demanding trust without earning it is not allyship. And not every straight presenting bi-person is actually an ally, much less queer. And yeah, some bi-people hide behind the hetero- part of their sexuality for cover. I know I did for a while…
And I suspect, all of that, and more, plays a role in how bi-people experience Pride. But that doesn’t mean bi-people aren’t welcome at Pride anymore than it means any other queer person who sometimes feels awkward- like some of the older gay men I know feel judged by young hot men during Pride - isn’t welcome at Pride. It just means the dynamics can play out differently for each individual person.
Now I gotta go get me another shadowy rainbow trinket from a queer run business, damnit.
https://thebodyisnotanapology.com/magazine/ally-etiquette-101/

27m been single for most of my 20s, had flings and relationships here and there nothing that lasts to long. I was down on myself a lot thinking I was the issue and I might just be a horrible person but here lately after talking to my three girl friends (they are friends nothing sexual) I realized women in the west are really delusional or want some weird fantasy type relationship that only exist in books or movies. I always wanted a relationship, always wanted to grow with somebody and I’m realizing now that’s probably not gonna happen and I’m gonna end up alone when I’m older. I’m finally coming to terms with it and I’m happier for it. I go out to eat by myself now, I watch shows by myself and I’m starting to plan trips and just enjoy myself more and more. To all the single dudes I suggest going to the gym and looking good for yourself, plan things with friends and just go out and do what you would like to do with someone or by yourself if you have to. Occasionally ask a women out and if they are to stuck up or “busy” just go by yourself. Don’t feel like a loser because your by yourself either, women want what they want and if they don’t want a good guy like you then that’s their loss. That’s how I’ve been feeling about life lately, I have friends and they are in relationships, getting married having kids and what not. I would like that for myself too but for the last two years I’ve had no social media and I don’t do dating apps because I’m a black male really doesn’t work for us at all or I should really say for me. I find women attractive and I want to approach them and then I think why would I compete for second place knowing I’m not gonna be first most likely played with for finances or used for sex or some bs like that. Just got a great job paying 100k plus and I’m a felon so I feel very accomplished and I’m working on my side business, I feel like a women right now would either distract me or try to ruin me, idk know why, I got this feeling maybe I need to stay single and just enjoy the fruits of my labor selfishly. It sucks sometimes seeing people in relationships makes me think what’s wrong with me but here lately I’m finally learning that there isn’t anything wrong with me I’m just not taken seriously and I’m fine with that now

Bromos, I’m in desperate need of help with my toddlers behavioral problems.
Before I start, you are probably gonna read this and be like “damn this kid needs to see a professional.” ….Duh. Currently in the process of applying for Medicaid + being connected with child psychologist and early interventionists who take Medicaid but this shit is complicated and they all have absolutely insane waiting lists so. My baby will see a specialist but it won’t happen tomorrow. And this problem needed to be addressed like.. yesterday.
Anyways on to the issue. My 3 year old is an absolute nightmare. I know most toddlers tend to be pretty hard to deal with but I am certain this goes past the normal scope. If you have read any of my previous posts you know I just left an extremely abusive relationship. Well any day where both me and my ex were at home consisted of me acting as a buffer between my children and him. He had virtually no patience for them and was very quick to anger. Judging by the injuries he inflicted upon me I knew how violent he could get very quickly and I needed to keep him from ever putting his hands on one of my girls.
What would end up happening is he would very rarely engage with my toddler so he had no idea how to handle her. His fuse was short and I would see him grow impatient at any sort of normal toddlerhood defiance and immediately remove her from the situation. He was extremely irritated at the sound of her crying so usually this resulted in me sticking her in front of a screen and giving into her demands. Whatever she wanted she got. I needed to keep her in a good mood at all times because I knew what might happen if my husband even overheard a meltdown. When he was away, I was so exhausted and beat down physically and emotionally that I couldn’t handle any type of boundary setting and the tantrums that would ensue. Seriously I don’t think this kid has ever heard the word no in her life until quite recently. Long story short, I let her run the house and walk all over me to keep her safe.
But now we are out and day by day I slowly but surely find my way out of survival mode and into real parenting. My daughter is really struggling. She has been having meltdowns every couple hours. She will refuse to do any and everything I ask of her even if it’s something that she wouldn’t have had an issue with before. She is screaming and crying all the time. Every time we get in the car she will scream te entire ride. It’s exhausting and I don’t know how much more of this I can take. Constant negotiations. She won’t sleep at all/ will barely eat and nothing has worked. I try to stand my ground and remain firm on my boundaries but I honestly don’t think she takes me serious at all. She knows that if she puts up enough of a fight she gets what she wants. She’s right, that’s how it’s always been. Why would things be different now?
Arguably the most concerning is her acts of violence (physical and verbal) towards me and others. I worry that her little brain picked up on her dads behavior. He would often yell obscenities and berate me in front of her. Recently when she gets upset of disregulated she will lash out and say very hurtful things to me (ex: fucking bitch, useless slut, annoying bitch, I wish you would die, threatening to hurt/punish me, etc) that she could have only heard from him. She will also throw things, hit, and bite herself and others when she is upset with the goal of injury.
It’s gotten to the point where I do not feel comfortable letting her play with the other toddlers (my friends kids) in the home because she has such a short temper and I am scared she will harm them. I also don’t even want to take her out in public because I am embarrassed of her huge meltdowns and she gets so overstimulated. Not to mention hearing her call me those things and try to physically harm me has been extremely triggering for me.
I am also in the middle of a custody legal pursuit with the girls father and caring for my colicky infant. I am so exhausted and i don’t know how much longer I can go on like this. Getting her professional help is my number 1 top priority, but I need to know what I can do. How do I start?? She’s not going to be permanently like this right?? I didn’t raise a tiny version of my ex, did I..?

Both similar in ways, both young but with mature and harsh mindsets, skilled martial artists or fighters (that being the important thing here), and have big hair.
Only opposites I can see is one's a boy (Huey) and the other's a girl (Wolf)
With weapons: Wolf only has TWO in her arsenal. Her scorpion staff to knock out enemies when stabbed and this one.
And Huey has and has used more than her such as guns, staffs and swords, and even made and used an electric glove.
Without weapons: I feel the two are matched in fighting ability but their mindsets can effect the fight, Huey's emotions don't get to the better of him in fights and Wolf tends to have her anger control most but not all the time.

Question: If April flowers bring May showers, what do May flowers bring?
Answer: Puritans and misery.
Part 1 - May Flower Moon
I'm no expert but I'm pretty sure this is a ghost story. It all started in early May under the, "Flower Moon".
In the still of the night, I awoke from a deep sleep to witness a moonlight so spectacular it hurt my eyes.
Fumbling for my glasses, I found them, dropped them, cursed, then almost stepped on them. I finally got them where they belonged thinking I needed to use the bathroom. I glanced at the digital clock on my desk.
3:33 am. Again.
Willow weep for me
Bend your branches down along the ground and cover me
-Ann Ronell as sung by Billie Holiday
The birds were chirping loudly. I shuffled to the window. I looked up wide-eyed at the sky. There was the moon; big, round and golden like it didn't mind a big electricity bill. As I used the bathroom, I remember thinking that I didn't ever remember a full moon so bright it could light up my apartment.
I washed my hands then splashed warm water on my face. I cracked my neck. I dried my hands and face with a towel. I remember thinking if I didn't get back to sleep the day was going to suck.
Shuffling back into my bedroom I thought to look for my ski hat. I figured I could pull it over my eyes and escape the light under the blanket. Flower Moon was beautiful but so too is sleep. If I could just hide under the blanket perhaps it wasn't too late for sleep to creep up on me.
I have been renting the same sunny shoebox in old Brooklyn for more than 20 years. It's a corner apartment on the second floor of a 19th century walkup. Across the street, diagonally resides a community garden fronted by a very tall and expansive weeping willow tree that won't let me move away. I didn't know it's age until recently. But it's younger than me. Most things are these days.
I shuffled to the corner window to squeeze the blinds tight and that's when I felt grateful, grateful I had decided to use the bathroom first.
There, at the base of the hundred-foot-tall willow, behind the wrought iron fence, illuminated beneath the moon's glow, I witnessed something that froze my blood and tested my aging bladder. Standing beneath the moonlight, I saw, clear as day, a little boy in footed pajamas with a trap door. The little boy was holding a blue stuffed Grover Muppet in one hand and crying.
Trying to get a good look at the boy was like trying to look at something from behind a campfire. There was a shimmering distortion. What I could clearly see was that he was pointing down at the ground in front of his feet with the non-Grover hand. Suddenly, the little boy spun his head up and around looking directly at me. Eye contact occurred and then too, something I can't explain.
First, a truck transporting fuel broke loudly for the red light at the corner. Through the open windows I smelled what seemed like diesel. I grew light-headed. The room spun around. I remember thinking this feeling smelled both nauseating as well as timeless.
I reached down to try and pick up the floor and that's when it hit me in the face. A sharp pain across my cheek like I had been slapped in a 3 Stooges short. I felt icy fingers grab the hair I had not had in over 30 years and jerk my head back. I smelled more diesel. I grabbed the edge of the desk to keep from losing my balance.
Holding on to the desk, I noticed my mind's eye was playing the little boy's face like a movie. The camera panned in. His little boy face filled my consciousness like I was watching from the front row. He was about four or five years old with long dirty blonde hair. His face looked familiar from a dream.
Then, another slapping pain turned my last good cheek. Losing my balance, I fell ass first to the floor.
Out the window, from on my ass, I watched the traffic light turn green. I heard the truck lurch into gear, rev it's engine then drive away. As it rumbled off into the distance my equilibrium returned.
Muttering my life sucked I gently shook my head and felt for damage. Just my non-existent pride. I got myself vertical, yet once again; feeling a distinct twinge of anxiety.
I looked out the window but the little boy was gone. An FDNY ambulance took his place, it's siren jarring me back to reality. I closed the blinds and got under the blanket. I never did really get back to sleep that night. Or ever since.
Part II - Unhappily Ever Since
Sad as I can be Hear me willow and weep for me... -Billie I keep seeing a little boy under the tree... - me ...
The first thing I want to say is that I keep waking up for decades at exactly 3:33 am.
It's the exact time my decrepit birth certificate claims I was introduced to this world. Can't say why, but ever since digital clocks became a thing, I'm up more often than not to witness 3:33 am transpire. Never remember it happening before digital.
One of my friends recently told me it was an angel number. I don't know anything about angels. Never met one. But I for sure have met some demons in my day. In fact. you might say I was born of demon mother, and I might not be offended. Back to my birth certificate. I was born and yes, still live in Brooklyn, New York. There were gaps but it's my home.
I moved to this particular apartment building a few months after 9/11. I had moved in with a woman at the tail end of doing a romantic nickel, but that fell apart like Madoff, Abramoff or Fuckoff, and she married another dude a year later. So, there in 2002, I and my faithful golden retriever, Spenser, found ourselves, for the very first time, on our own. And, we liked it.
Like I mentioned, Spenser and I lived diagonal to a community garden that fronts a big and beautiful weeping willow tree. I felt an immediate kinship as my favorite book as a child had been, "The Giving Tree" and that's what she reminded me of; only more beautiful.
There will be more about the tree. Anyway, the tree and I dwell in an old part of south Brooklyn called Park Slope, infamous for being the stomping grounds of a young Al Capone, and, believe it or not, young me.
That was a long time ago. Things have changed a lot since Al and I, were separately roaming the streets of Park Slope, looking for adventure and whatever came our way. I came up in the day when if you cried your mother would give you something to cry about. And, not going to lie, I cried a lot. I don't remember my dad that much.
I remember he was a hippie. I remember he had a big beard and moustache and long hair. I remember his denim jacket was always cold, smelling like weed and cigarettes. I remember he gave me, "The Giving Tree" and taught me how to read it. And then, I remember he was; gone. Just. Gone.
I also remember my mother. I remember her never talking much. I remember her just smelling like hair spray, cigarettes and instant coffee with sour milk. I never was able to drink milk, not even as a child, and to this very day just the sight of a milk carton turns my stomach to acid.
I lived alone with the old lady about half a mile from where I live now. Yeah, in over thirty years I made it a whole thirteen blocks. Like I said, my pride was non-existent these days unless I was sitting on it. Another, weird thing besides waking up at 3:33 am is I have a lot of memory lapses. It has been getting worse the last few years. Especially, since old Spenser had a seizure in my arms back on the 9/11 of '09. He was fifteen and my best friend. I'd always loved dogs. But after losing Spenser, I couldn't quite remember things right all the time.
Sometimes, it was little things. Like did I turn off the stove or lock the front door. Other times, it was deep things, like did the telephone repair man try to do something to me when I was five and left home alone. Like did I pull a kitchen knife on him before he scampered out like a thief in the night; scared he'd be caught by my screams for Batman? Did I remember my mother having strange guests over late at night? Did I remember being locked in my room? I just couldn't remember anymore.
I had taken to obsessively keeping lists. But you can't put ghost-busting on a list, can you? And that was my real problem. Ever since, the May Flower Moon the haunting just kept rinsing and repeating. Eat edibles, Nyquil, and Advil PM and still wake up at 3:33am. Smell diesel. Wave of nausea. Little boy in garden. Little boy crying. Little boy pointing at something. Little boy looking up at me. Little boy. Little boy. Little boy.
By last Friday, I was a mess.
My work is suffering. I am too embarrassed to tell my aunt or besties I see a little boy. They already think I am weird enough and last thing I need is a wellness check.
To remain scientific, I have continued my daytime visits to the garden whenever it is open. Everything seems so lovely in the day. I even brought the new woman I am seeing. She fell in love with the tree at first sight. The flowers are gorgeous. And the roses; so mesmerizing. Even the fish in the koi pond are happy.
But at night. Something isn't right.
...Weeping willow tree Weeping sympathy Bend your branches down along the ground and cover me Listen to me plead Hear me willow and weep for me...
My new friend at work I mentioned, who told me about angel numbers, asked me recently if something was bothering me. She told me when we met, she is in the midst of a spiritual awakening.
Part of it includes awakening every morning to read the Tarot cards and commune with who, or what, she calls, "spirit".
I cracked and told her about the little boy under the tree. She didn't bat an eye. She told me spirit wants something from me. I didn't know what to say to that so I just left it alone. I guess I'm afraid what if she's right. And what if I don't like what, "spirit" wants?
Last night was Saturday. I had a dream.
That night I dreamed about a collie I had when I was a very young boy right after my dad split. Her name was Pearl. I had found her on the street on my block and for some inexplicable reason had been allowed to keep her.
Not long after, one hot summer day in Prospect Park, when my mother was going to give me something to cry about, Pearl suddenly ran down the hill she was frolicking on, making a wide sweeping arc that screamed, "ride or die, full throttle, and damn the fucking torpedoes," it's trajectory directly between my mother's legs. Fur overcame flesh just in the nick before I was given something to cry about.
Instead, I laughed.
I laughed so fucking hysterically at the sight of her on the grass, on her ass; smug look gone with the wind; replaced by an expression seething red menace that would have been McCarthy's wet dream.
And, like the little boy at 3:33 am, Pearl's eyes met mine. She seemed to nod her collie head, as if she were acknowledging that, yes, she was the best dog and don't you forget it. I didn't cry much for a while after that till I came home from school and Pearl was gone. Just gone. To some farm I was told. Where she could be happier. So, I guess I did get something to cry about after all.
And then last night I had a dream.
Part III - It weeps for me?
I dreamed of Peter Pan and buried treasure. I dreamed of Stove Stop stuffing and commercials loud enough to drown out a breech birth. I dreamed of Spider-Man letting Uncle Ben's killer go free. I dreamed of being American. I dreamed of Watergate, the fall of the Berlin wall, 9/11 and watching people jump out windows to avoid burning to death out the window of my office.
I dreamed of Iraq and Afghanistan and George Floyd and Covid and never-ending cycles of boom and bust. I dreamed of a golden carrot on what started out as a stick but soon morphed into what I realized was a branch. A long flowing beautiful branch covered in red. A branch that hung low. It swayed along the ground, swayed above my head and there I was.
I was in the garden. Under the tree. I felt drops of warm dew caressing my face. I was about to reach up to caress the tree. My tree. I noticed I was wearing pajamas. Not the black satin jammies I had been wearing for decades but old footie pajamas. They were Star Trek pajamas. With three golden rings on the cuffs and a trap door.
A drop of dew fell in my eye. I wiped it away and looked at my hand. It was red. Red with blood. My Mickey Mouse watch involuntarily color-coordinated with the blood. It appeared to be just after 3:30 am.
Suddenly, a dog appeared. It was Pearl. Then another, it was Spenser. They jammed their snouts into my flannel covered crotch. I pet them both and noticed my tears mixing with the dewy blood drops turning them a soft pink under the moonlight.
"Good boy. Good girl." I said.
"Hi," a voice I recognized but couldn't place said.
I looked around. And there, was, the little boy. And, in his hand was Grover.
"Hi," I heard myself say.
"Who's the dog?" he said.
"That's Pearl. And this is Spenser." I answered.
"I know Pearl, silly. She's my dog," then, "Hi, Spenser."
Spenser left my crotch for the little boy's. They went together like peanut butter and sandwiches.
"Where are your parents?" I heard myself ask.
"Dad left. Mom told me to stay here until she comes back."
"When was that?" I asked.
The little boy shrugged then, "Been a while I guess," and he started to cry. Spenser got agitated and started to whine. I approached. I went to put my hand on the boy's shoulder and he jumped.
"Hey, it's okay." I took my hand back.
He looked up at me. Then he said, "You want to see something?
I said, "Yes."
The little boy fished around in his pajamas and pulled out something, it looked like a piece of rolled up construction paper secured with a red ribbon that matched the bloody dew drops.
He un-scrolled it then solemnly showed it to me.
It appeared to be a child's treasure map. That ended in the garden. Only it wasn't a garden. It said, "JUNK YARD" and there was a big X next to the corner of the rectangle the words were written in. I looked down at him.
"There's no junk yard here, son," I said.
The little boy looked away from Spenser and up at me. Pearl ran to his side. I felt six eyes on me.
"That's what you think," he said
A moment later there was the loud cracking of fireworks being detonated. I awoke in my bed. Fumbling for my glasses, I found them, dropped them, cursed, then almost stepped on them. I finally got them where they belonged thinking I needed to use the bathroom. I glanced at the digital clock on my desk.
3:33 am. Again.
I ran to the window to look out. But, unlike every other time for the past month, the boy was not in residence. He was gone. Just. Gone.
Part IV - The is The End
Gone my lovely dreams To weep my tears along the stream Sad as I can be Hear me willow and weep for me
...
This was fucking ridiculous. I am sane. I am not mad. I'd been reading, "The Giving Tree," too much. Spending too much time alone working from home. Maybe I just needed to get away. Take a trip somewhere.
I realized getting back to sleep was going to be impossible. So, I went into the kitchen and made a pot of tea. No milk.
Back at my desk, my "SHIT. FUCK. DAMN." glass mug of tea firmly in hand, I took a deep breath. There was no point in giving myself a heart attack. Maybe it was just anxiety. Maybe panic attacks. I had dated lots of neurotic women. That could be it. Maybe some Lexapro and I'd be good as new. I decided to check my email.
A woman I used to date from Queens and stayed friends with had sent me a link entitled, "Birth of a community garden." It was video to my garden. Before it was a garden. Over forty years ago. It was a decrepit vacant lot filled with dead cars and refuse and apparently had been a neighborhood drug bazaar. Like I said, things have changed a lot since Al and I were young as springtime.
By the time I moved back you would have never known what things had used to look like. Spray painted signs that read, "NO DRUGS SOLD HERE!" and the like. Just like the Batman, Dark Knight, the 80s were a time when Urban Renewal was striking back. And before you could say, "corruption at City Hall," there was fecund soil where once had stood God knows what.
It gave me hope that humanity wasn't so bad. Maybe I had just been going through a tough time. Maybe I should quit while I am ahead and get a good night's rest. So, I closed the blinds and went to bed.
Why I am never sleeping again
That night I dreamed I was part of the junk yard's saviors. Hauling out decades of festering trash and replacing it with good old Mother Earth. A whole community coming together to commune with nature. I felt myself smile.
All day we hoed the rows. The fecundity of the soil filling my nostrils. There was food and laughter and soon day turned to night. One by one all the gardeners left into the dusk. Soon I stood alone next to a young woman. She held a green army duffle bag. And two shovels.
"You look like a big, strong man. They're going to be planting a weeping willow tree here soon. But first, I wanted to leave the earth a special gift to grow up with the tree. This time I think we should give to the tree. Won't you help me?"
I felt a passing twinge of disgust. I rubbed my upper lip with the back of my hand and thought I smelled the faint smell of diesel. I heard myself say, "Hand me a shovel."
An hour later I had fulfilled the lady's request to deposit the duffel bag deep within the new garden's soil. She lit a cigarette I recognized. She blew some smoke in my face and it smelled like sour milk.
"Ever read a boy and his dog?" she asked.
I nodded.
"This is the opposite," she said. I smelled the diesel again and then remembered no more.
This morning I awoke feeling none too swell. I got my glasses on without dropping them for a change then sort of hobbled to the kitchen area to make some tea. I opened the blinds and there was my weeping willow tree. Swaying gently in the Sunday early June overcast chill.
Implacable. Inscrutable. True to it's nature. The day was gray as a widow's anniversary.
Well, there's always tea, I thought, ever the optimist. And then I dropped my, "SHIT. FUCK. DAMN." mug on my foot, simultaneously battering and scalding it. I let out a yelp.
Then, mouth agape, I smelled the diesel waft in the window by the fire escape. The window, where, leaning against the fire escape's stairs I witnessed something that froze my blood and tested my aging bladder.
I spied two shovels and an empty duffle bag.
I wonder what spirit will have to say about that?
Gone my lovely dreams To weep my tears along the stream Sad as I can be Hear me willow and weep for me
Willow Weep For Me?

This is more a gift to a friend (Hi Kelly~) who loves unique and wonderous apparel in DnD! Go wild, have fun and get creative with your ideas~ (BTW - Most of these are things pulled from my personal concepts list, which is an huge blend of various sources and cool ideas, if your concept is among these please do contact me so I may put appropriate credit)
​

1. A long, diaphanous, red veil that shimmers with crushed amber shards that dance like sultry flames whenever its bearer breathes or moves.
2. A Military Uniform, in white and sky-blue color, with a unicorn emblem
3. Night-blue silk robe with tiny sparkles that seem to shimmer like stars
4. A finely tailored bodice made from the softest, most supple leather taken from yearling lambs. The bodice is lined with samite and trimmed with beaded lace.
5. A wool shawl, embroidered with scenes of pastures.
6. An elegant dress with rich black silk back and sides and a deep purple velvet insert in the front creating a striking combination of fabrics. The solid half-sleeves have a beautiful floral pattern, tree-cornered lace that falls into a point of silver-thread piping.
7. A delicate shawl, lacy and fringed, woven from pearly spider silk.
8. A dark blue silk mantle lined with white mink fur and embroidered in abstract silver diamond patterns at collar and hem.
9. Sleeping Gown - A classic out of time, sleep wear that predates pajamas, the sleeping gown is the flowing sleeping dress that makes every girl feel like a princess. They are expensive but apparently the nobleman is crazy rich and he is paying. If you pick this you want to feel like a princess, a warrior princess or are taking the opportunity to have someone else pay for the most opulent garment that technically counts as underwear that a girl can buy in stores. This Sleeping gown absorbed both the residual occult energies left behind by an animism ritual practices and the stuff of legends that you and your compatriots made that night. As a result this sleeping gown has become literally the stuff of fairy tales as anyone wearing it gains the ability to communicate with birds through the use of intricate and beautiful whistled melodies.
10. A pair of finely embroidered silk shoes that make you want to dance -- and apparently dance much better than you usually do.
11. A knee-length linen tunic so fine as to be nearly sheer, with multicolored embroidered bands at all hems depicting wildlife, flowers and fantastical beasts.
12. A heavy, exquisitely brocaded robe beaded with pearls.
13. Sakura Kimono - When worn, you can summon a gentle rain of cherry blossoms, even indoors. Iteasily puts people in a good drinking mood. And they're so pretty. It also lets you magically unsummon the petals to easily clean up afterwards
14. Three Dresses and a Donkeyskin - You receive three dresses. One with all the colors of the sky being the most beautiful blue of heaven, one bright as the sun (not literally - it won't burn your eyes off) of gold and diamonds, and one with all the beauty of the moon. Also, you get the hide of a donkey to wear with a special property - so long as you're wearing it, people will think you're dirt ugly no matter how clearly attractive you are.The three dresses do the opposite, enhancing your beauty.
15. Purring Scarf: When you pet the scarf, it purrs softly. Popular with noble magic users.
16. A veil of creamy, silken fiber shorn from a unicorn’s mane, hung from a braid of cloth-of-gold.
17. A silken night-robe of midnight blue and black, decorated in mystic imagery of clouds and stars in lavender and silver.
18. A blue silk djellaba, embroidered with floral patterns in silver thread.
19. A veil of black silk decorated with crimson embroidery and trimmed with tiny gold drops.
20. An elven poncho covered in long strands that resemble weeping willow, wisteria and ivy vines.

Some girls in black shirts were "giving away" $5 starbucks giftcards to everyone who filled out a survey about if they smoked cigarettes, vapes or weed saying it was for market research.
We filled out the survey but no one got a gift card so we're now wondering if this was a sketchy company? Does anyone have more info on them? I forget their name it was like "Captivate" or "Motivate" or something. (yes it was silly of us to give away our info... oops)

Imp Midna is unironically 40 pounds of pussy and ass. She's just floating drumsticks with a smug single fang grin. That's not even artists exaggerating it, her body mass is actually 80% in her cheeks, thighs, and pot belly. She's not a pear, she's a lightbulb. They had to know exactly what the fuck they were doing. I refuse to believe otherwise. People being creepy fuckers and sexualizing the Inklings and the bird girl from Wind Waker and all that shit, sure, that's on the fans. But Midna being a forty pound pussy that grinds on top of Link's head and bosses him around is 100% on Nintendo. Her imp form was actually MORE sexualized than her true form, which is astonishing since her true form is literally a completely naked woman in harem silks with black bodypaint covering over her bits.

Ling Miaomiao transmigated into a novel. She became the cannon fodder girl No.3 and she still has to finish those extremely cliché missions?! It's already enough that she has to spoil the relationship between the original male and female lead, but she also needs to 'conquer' the vicious and merciless Black Lotus, Mu Sheng?! How hard can this be? Genius Miaomiao will conquer you now~ Wait a minute, ... Read The Guide to Capturing a Black Lotus - Chapter 122 - MangaPuma. Read more at https://mangapuma.com/the-guide-to-capturing-a-black-lotus/chapter-122

anyone know what shoes jocelyn was wearing with the black fit? & the dress she was wearing out the club ? HELP A GIRL OUTT 😭

As the title says, I absolutely love them since high school. In high school, I had a crush on a redhead and a black tomboy girl. They were so cute. I was able to befriend the redhead girl 🥺 The black girl already had a lot of friends so I was scared to approach her
I met this cute girl at a local sports club, which i discontinued cause I’m not sporty at all. We talked a few times and last week, she was looking at me flirtatiously. I was like blushing so hard and waved at her awkwardly and left. Aaaaaaaaa >/////<
It was a nice feeling after so many days. I haven’t had a crush on a tomboy girl ever since I left high school.
I don’t know there is something about them that kinda attracts me. Maybe I find it easy to talk to them. They don’t care about my makeup or outfit. They don’t look at me up and down like the other girly girls I hang out with. I kinda get a laid back, fun type of vibe from them. So it’s kinda easy for me to talk to them without feeling anxious or scared of being judged for what I say or how I look.
Aww it’s such a lovely feeling. I love them even though I’m extremely girly and we got nothing in common. I wonder, how I befriend more of them. Any advice?
Also, am I bi? (I’m thinking about it for a while as it is pride month)

As the title says, I absolutely love them since high school. In high school, I had a crush on a redhead and a black tomboy girl. They were so cute. I was able to befriend the redhead girl 🥺 The black girl already had a lot of friends so I was scared to approach her
I met this cute girl at a local sports club, which i discontinued cause I’m not sporty at all. We talked a few times and last week, she was looking at me flirtatiously. I was like blushing so hard and waved at her awkwardly and left. Aaaaaaaaa >/////<
It was a nice feeling after so many days. I haven’t had a crush on a tomboy girl ever since I left high school.
I don’t know there is something about them that kinda attracts me. Maybe I find it easy to talk to them. They don’t care about my makeup or outfit. They don’t look at me up and down like the other girly girls I hang out with. I kinda get a laid back, fun type of vibe from them. So it’s kinda easy for me to talk to them without feeling anxious or scared of being judged for what I say or how I look.
Aww it’s such a lovely feeling. I love them even though I’m extremely girly and we got nothing in common. I wonder, how I befriend more of them. Any advice?
Also, am I bi? (I’m thinking about it for a while as it is the pride month)

Selling everything I’ve collected so far with regards to manga, light novels, and merch. Shipping is a flat $5 for media mail for purchases up to 8 volumes. Anything over 8 volumes will depend on volume count. I’m not looking to split the larger volume sets, but will sell the single volume, or volumes at the end. For example: With the collected volumes 1-10, I would not sell 4 or any single volume in the middle. I would sell volume 10 and any previous volume as long as it doesn’t create a gap.
Light Novel Images Manga Images Merch Images
- Most Merch items were photographed a long time ago. Here is the links showing the bulk items with the timestamp: Merch & Figures
Most items are new and never read and are in G5 quality. Death March & Vinland Saga are really the only items I ever read with most bein still in G4 to G5 minus any exception stated below.
I tried to price the items fairly and in accordance with my will to get rid of them, but I am open to offers. All of the Merch is free. I am planning to get rid of it by the end of the week if no one on this platform is interested in any of the items. If you are interested in the merch itself and not the LNs or manga's, the item is free minus shipping.
​

Light Novels	Volumes	Price	Damage
Bakemonogatari	1 - 3	$24
Kizumonogatari		$9
All Monogatari		$30
Death March in a Parallel World	1 - 9	$60	Volume 8 has water damaged pages
Didn't I Say to Make My Abilities Average in the Next Life?!	1	$8
Overlord	1 - 4	$45
The Rising of the Shield Hero	1 - 4	$30	Slight discoloration on volume 1's outer pages
Tokyo Ghoul: Days		$8
Tokyo Ghoul: Past		$8
Tokyo Ghoul: Void		$8
All Tokyo Ghoul		$20
Manga	Volumes	Price	Damage
A Silent Voice	Complete: 1 - 7	$50	Volume 5's cover has a creased corner
Battle Angel Alita	1	$7
Berserk	1: Shrink-wrapped	$9
Black Clover	1	$6
Death Trance	1	$6
Delicious in Dungeon	1	$9
Dojin Work: CE	1	$4
Final Fantasy Type-0		$7.5
Fire Force	1 - 5	$30
Gothic Sports	1	$5
In/Spectre	1 - 2	$13
K-ON! Kakifly	1	$5
Konosuba	1: Loot Crate Edition	$10
Land of the Lustrous	1	$7
Soul Eater	1: Loot Crate Edition	$10
Spice and Wolf	1	$8
Takeru	1 - 4	$20
The Girl from the Otherside	1	$8
The Seven Deadly Sins	1	$6
Tokyo Ghoul	1 - 9	$70
Tokyo Ghoul: RE	1 - 5	$40
Twin Signal	1	$5
Vinland Saga	1 - 6	$70
Yamada-Kun and the Seven Witches	1 - 15	Sold

​
Merch: Free with purchase of any of the above listings.
Apparel -

• Black Clover Shirt - XL
• Blame! Shirt - XL
• Dead Man Wonderland Shirt - XL
• Deathnote Socks
• Pyshco-Pass Shirt - XL
• Robotech Beanie
• pending - Steins Gate Shirt - XL
• Tri-Gun Shirt - XL
• Saint Seiya Hat

Figure -

• Astro Boy Light-Up Figure - Astro Boy
• pending - Izuku Midoriya Figure - My Hero Academia
• pending - Josuke Higashikata Figure - JoJo's
• pending - Madoka Kaname Figure - Puella Magi Madoka Magica
• pending - Saitama Mini's - One Punch Man
• pending - Sasuke Figure - Naruto
• Shadow the Hedgehog Figure - Sonic
• Shiroyasya Figure - Gintama

Miscellaneous -

• Mini Plush Asuka Langley - Evangelion
• Ai Yori Aoshi ~Enishi~ - Soundtrack
• Gunparade March ~Spirit of the Samurai~ - Soundtrack
• Batman & The Justice League: Preview Edition by Shiori Teshirogi - I can remove as it is a comic book, but I figured it is permissible because its in the style of a manga plus was in an Anime Loot Crate.
• Pending - Mushi-Shi Tea Cups
• The Art of Yoshitaka Amano - Book
• Gurren Lagann Art Works
• Fruit Basket Sticker Collection
• Miss Kobayashi's Dragon Maid Paper Pad
• One Piece Cinch Bag
• Hawk Eraser - The Seven Deadly Sins
• Dragon Ball Z Unopened card pack
• Bungo Stray Dogs Wallet
• Food Wars! Soma Key Chain
• Skip Beat Kickstarter Chicken Key Chain
• Pending -Aria Kickstarter Mug Paper pad Art cards
• The Vision of Escaflowne Kickstarter Tarot Cards Necklace
• Knights of Sidonia Cell Phone Stand
• Anime Loot Crate Cell Phone Charm x 5
• Anime Loot Crate Pins x 4
• Food Wars! Soma Key Chain

Finally, I have most of the 2018 Newtype magazine from Japan that focuses on anime. Only missing January and Novembers edition.
​
If you have any questions regarding the items, feel free to reach out.

For anonymity purposes I’ll call her h.
I hate h. She acts like a 5 year old even though she’s 6 months younger than me, and sometimes she’s so immature I feel like I’m talking to a toddler. And she’s so spoiled. She keeps bragging about how she’s getting a new Apple Watch, and a new phone, and new AirPods, and how her parents are paying for all of it. And yes, while I nights also have an Apple Watch, and a phone, I payed for it. I worked for it. And she keeps bragging about how she’s so much richer than me. It’s driving me insane. And not only that, but she’s the family angel. She acts like a sweet girl in front of my family, but in private she’s a huge bitch. She swears at me in private, and she’s been acting super awfully towards me ever since I revealed to her that I was pansexual, as a secret. But of course, she told her parents, who told my heavily conservative parents. And this has ruined all of the trust I have for her. But anyways, she also blames everything on me. When she swears at me, she soon after runs to her parents crying and tells them how I called her a bitch or something. And of course, everyone believes her, which has made me into the family outcast, because not even my own parents believe me over her. And she never makes conversation to me in front of anyone else. She keeps sitting on her phone, watching god knows what, and then running to my parents to tell them how I was the one sitting on my phone and blowing her off. For context, I never touch my phone when I’m near her, and I never bring it near her, because she’s guessed my password and looks through my private shit when I turn around for one second. And yes, maybe I don’t talk to her, but that’s because every time I’ve tried, she’s twisted my words to make me look like some kind of bitch.
Anyways, does anyone have some advice? Bc I’m sick of her, and I don’t know how much longer I can handle her.

Hi all,
I have a friend that is met from work about 3 years ago. We have gotten closer throughout those years and she is nice to talk to. I was raised around predominantly black people as I have black family members or course and typically gravitated towards black friends. She is a bit different. She went to predominantly white schools and has a good amount of white friends as well. It goes without saying that some personality qualities can develop from having white friendships and interactions. That’s cool and totally fine. (Context she is 100% black, married to a mixed race 50/50 male)
She said something that was particularly disturbing to me and I haven’t spoken to her since. She was telling me about her neighbors and how the daughter is so pretty and looks like Zendaya. Then she sends me a picture of the girl, who is mixed race and says, “yeah I wish my daughter’s hair was like that.” (For context, her daughter is mixed race too and probably has 3c type hair. )
I told her that comes off as very self hating. She said “No I didn’t mean it like that, I just wish that her hair was easier to comb. It’s like I have to comb it every day and if I don’t gets tangled .”
Now I’m irritated because in my head that comes with the territory of being a black woman. The comment annoyed me but the explanation pissed me off. The neighbor’s hair has no kink and is pretty much straight. She blamed her daughters hair texture on her husband’s “boxer breed hair.”
Idk if this is something worth ending a friendship over but it was very disturbing to me and I generally have zero tolerance for self hating comments like that.
Black ladies, what do you think I should do?