alf was in this


Originally posted by the-inglourious-basterds

Somewhere in the dark streets below you, amid the beggars and drunks, a shot rang through the night. Followed by another, then the howl of a dog in the glow of the full moon. Then running feet, people fleeing from the scene as the victim lay gasping for air and spluttering blood.

In the comfort of your apartment, you shot up from sleep in a cold sweat. You gasped for air too, looking around in the dark for something, you just weren’t sure of what. You woke abruptly, as if you were in the middle of everything occurring outside, and yet you didn’t know anything about it at the same time.

Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong gas you failed to fall back to sleep, wishing more than anything you weren’t alone. And that everyone you loved was ok.

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I know Julia is Sad Dead Wife and thats all we know but god I would love to see content of her where she’s goofy and fun loving. Like I get it’s heartwrenching but oh my god I bet Julia was buckwild. Julia Waxmen arm wrestles the whole bar and Magnus pretends to go easy on her but then she immeadietly slams his arm down and steals his drinks and laughs this ugly uproarious laugh and he falls in love Immeadietly

I finished watching “Earthlings” and I have never felt more uneasy in my life. I have never felt so angry at myself for ever consuming animals. I have never felt so angry towards those who still choose to consume them. I have never felt my heart break over and over for over an hour straight before. I used to consider myself understanding. I used to say that I understand why people ate meat, I used to find their reasons justifiable. Now, I see no justification. I can’t fathom how someone can be aware of the inhumane slaughter and torture that these animals, these living creatures go through and just simply eat them because of tradition or just personal food preference.

if your magnus looks like/gives the vibe that he has a mountain goats song playing in the background at all times no matter where he is as he climbs through a field of golden grass with the sun in his hair and a really scruffy beard and covered in battle scars new and old with a tired but, somehow, alive and youthful look in his heavily lashed pretty-boy eyes you got yourself a good magnus