cage of gold


Seeing how so many people stuff their hamster in small cages is so depressing :( 

These type of hamsters are never to be kept in pairs EVER:

Russian Dwarfhamster

Syrian hamster or better known as goldhamster.

Chinese Hamster:

These can be kept with 2 at a time, of the same gender !!! And only if they have known each other for a while:

Roborovski or Robo. AKA fast motherfuckers.

These can be kept with +- 5 IF THEY ARE FROM A PURE BREED:


DO NOT EVER GIVE YOU HAMSTER THESE !!! EVER !!!! If you want bedding for your hamster give them toilet paper.


These are NOT good cages !!!:

A syrian (gold) hamster needs a cage that is at least 80 centimeters long and 50 cm width. Their running wheel must be 30 centimeters in diameter.

A dwarf hamster (russian and roborovski) need at least 50 centimeters long and 30 centimeters width cage. 

Please, you have no idea how many hamsters are suffering in horrible cages. Also, nice cages make the hamster happy and you will be able to tame them so much easier. 

Here are a few examples of good cages for syrian hamster:

The Ferplast Mary. A favorite among hamster owners.

The Alaska cage. Cheap and perfect.

Hamster Heaven 80. Cute as hell. And the 30 cm wheel fits perfectly.


The good old Duna:

The Duna Fun:

An old terarrium:

Also, hamsters LOVE sand baths. And they are pretty funny rolling around in the sand. + makes the fur look fabulous.


Red Queen Aesthetic : Coriane Jacos

“They hated her because we were from a low house, because we didn’t have strength or power or any other silly thing those people uphold. And when my sister became queen, she threatened to change all that. She was kind, compassionate, a mother who could raise Cal to be the king this country needed to unite us all. A king who wouldn’t be afraid of change. But that never came to be.”

School for Scoundrels

Crazy: Parts of this actually sound exactly like the Luke Cage score. It’s kind of perfect.

He don’t know I call him the teacher
He had hard lessons for the kid
I could offer you true hell, he put me under the same spell
He lied and he stressed me out

Made with SoundCloud

My homage to CLAMP’s minimalist sci-fi masterpiece, Clover!

I love the non-linear narrative, the way it hints at a vast and rich world with so few words and lines, and the patented CLAMP tragedy that they do so well.  This comic has haunted me for years and it felt good to exorcise it a bit with this painting!  Also I’m pleased because I drew huge CLAMP dudes.

(you can get a print here!)

i. there are kingdoms & empires
bursting in full color on your tongue,
straining against the blockade of your teeth,
if only you will part your lips & breathe.
ii. heart quivers behind (rib)cage gilded gold,
afraid to palpitate & shatter bone.
don’t wait for a prince to unlock you—
whittle your ribs into a key. it will fit.
iii. the landscape of your skin is foreign territory:
translucence stained with a sprawling roadmap
of violet veins, skylines & cityscapes,
tangled constellations that lead to your heart.
iv. the space of your throat is a chasm—
they look down & call you empty.
haven’t yet learnt to see in the dark,
haven’t yet learnt the geometry of your voice.
v. your eyes, swollen with fireflies;
theirs, halogen bulbs of forgotten lamplights
on one-way streets. only moths go near,
aching for the promise of artificial sunlight.
vi. darling, give them a bit of your incandescence.
i promise you will still shine.
—  ANATOMY OF A GIRL | paperharbors (for @inkstay‘s prompt 426 “bodies”)

khancrackers  asked:

real talk are we supposed to automatically feel opposed to for-hire superheroes? they always either seem to be money-grubbing mercs like "toyline deals and publicity" old booster gold and "give me two hundred dollars so i can make rent" luke cage and neither of them are really deplorable to me. everyone needs money and only demigods that don't need food or shelter and rich billionaires can not worry about making ends meet/having security

Yeah, it’s pushed a little hard. Both of them seem to be treated better these days, but it’s definitely still not a generally accepted status quo. I guess it’s a matter of “What, you’re making people pay you to protect them?”, but I mean, so do police with taxes. Batman’s more into branding than Booster Gold could ever be, but you don’t see anyone complaining about him having the city shine his logo on the sky every night, just because he pays for that out-of-pocket. It doesn’t fit for every character, certainly, but it shouldn’t be seen as a big deal either.

Stripes and Cages

#LeighLoves this 70’s boho styled jumpsuit with split sleeves. Teamed with these caged heels and big gold hoop earrings, this outfit has the perfect combination of sass and attitude.
I’ve gone for a 90’s beauty look with my Hair and make up to mix things up a little!

Jumpsuit- In the Style
Heels- Ego

The Cage

The cage has been passed down since before written record. It moves from mother to daughter in a silent ceremony. The bars of the cage still glisten with what gold remains untarnished. The rest has fallen victim to that serial murderer known as age. The lean door still opens and closes; dust from ancient beings loosed from its hinges. Dust, after all, is just the cells of dead skin. And the cage has seen many deaths.

Right now the cage is waiting for Amelia. Amelia has barely grasped the concept of life outside herself. Her world is full of familiar rooms and hallways. She is occupied by the faces of her family, and the three husk dolls she plays with. Their names are Squeak, Bite, and Dry. A sheltered life is all she has ever known. It is better this way. It makes it easier.

Amelia has left her room. She takes Squeak with her. Bite and Dry gaze enviously out of their vacant, dead eyes. The hallway is softly lit by candlelight. It flickers against the white satin of Amelia’s gown. This is the most extravagant dress she will ever wear. It falls plainly like a sack against her body.

I am awake and sitting in the pitch darkness of the living room. This night has been long in the making. I sit the way my mother must have sat, alone and aloof, awaiting the presence of her daughter. I both dread and welcome this night. I live with the contradiction as so many women have before me.

Amelia enters. She stands in the blackness.

“Are you ready?” My voice does not quiver.

“I will do as the prophet wishes.” She clutches Squeak close to her chest.

“And if the prophet wishes for you to die?”

“I will do as the prophet wishes.” Amelia knows these words by heart.

I rise from my position and light a lantern beside me. The room erupts in orange light. It bathes Amelia in a harsh glow. Her plain gown seems almost alive as it reflects the licking fire. She has turned Squeak’s head so it is looking at her face. I feel a stab of pity.

The cage sits on the floor of the room. It is only three feet high and half that wide. It might be confused for a dog kennel if it weren’t for the ornate gold bars. In the many generations before me this cage must have been a marvel. It must have glittered and gleamed. But now the pageantry has been dulled. The years have carved their initials onto the beauty that once was.

Even still, it is a sight to behold. Especially for Amelia.

The lantern light has beckoned to my husband and the young man he has with him. They enter the room with greedy smiles. My husband has waited so long for this ceremony. He does not try to hide his excitement. The boy is less sure. He is about 20 or so. He is completely clean shaven and wears a wide brim hat that does little to hide his nervousness.

I light more candles so the room feels warm. Amelia still holds that husk doll as though it might change what is about to happen. She has turned Squeak’s face so it is now staring at me.

When I speak, my voice is clear and unwavering. “I have asked the girl if she is ready to do the prophet’s bidding. She has agreed.”

The boy shifts uncomfortably. My husband places a heavy hand on his shoulder.

I speak again, “Now I ask the boy. Are you ready?”

He clears his throat. “Yes.”

“You wish to wed this girl?”

“Yes.” His face becomes bit hungrier now. He can see Amelia’s body beneath her gown. He has heard couples making love. The boy can still hear the cries of ecstasy. He wants to add his voice to those of the lovers.

I brush my hand along the cage. “This cage represents the bonds of marriage. They are unbreakable and can withstand even the thickest storm.” I open the cage door. It makes a low rumble as the bars free themselves.

The boy starts to shake with anticipation. “How long must she stay in there?” He is new to our village. He comes from Amish country to the north. We receive many former Amish men looking for a place similar to their homes. We welcome them. They make perfect husbands.

“The virgin shall remain in the cage until the time of consummation.” I beckon to Amelia. She steps forward. “Do you wish to please the prophet?”

“I will do as the prophet wishes.” She has turned Squeak’s face so it now glares at the cage.

“And you?” I turn to the boy, who is pushed forward by my husband. “Do you wish to please?”

“Yes,” he says breathlessly. “Yes.”

I put my arms around them both, feeling their individual heartbeats. “Then let the prophet’s will be done.”

Carefully I release my grip on Amelia and use both hands to shove the boy into the cage. Before he can protest I have closed the door and locked it. This is not my first time.

The cage is just small enough where the boy cannot stand but he also cannot sit. Instead he crouches awkwardly, pressed against the bars. He is angry. “What is going on?”

“The cage represents marriage,” I say smoothly. “The virgin will be released upon consummation.”

“I thought SHE was going in here! I am the man, the husband.”

“You are the breeding sow,” I respond. My husband falls to his knees, tears in his eyes.

“Is this the one?” he asks. “Am I free to go now?”

I regard my husband carefully. He has been a good slave all these years. He has given me Amelia. He has brought her three previous suitors. Once she has selected a husband for herself, he will be a free man again. Perhaps he will find his way to the place of his birth. But until Amelia has picked a man, he is bound to me.

I remember when it was him locked in the cage. It took me two years to decide that he would be my husband. Two years in the cage made putty of his legs and mind. My own mother would feed him scraps from the table. She would poke him with sticks from the fire, laughing at his agony. I remember my father’s impatience. The same impatience I see in my husband now.

The boy is crying and pleading with me, but I only have eyes for my daughter. Her three previous suitors were not to her liking. As is tradition, we made offerings out of their flesh. They were turned into three husk dolls for Amelia to play with. Her favorite, Squeak, was starved to death inside the tiny prison. At the end he could only make small whines to protest his death. But, like the others, he died behind the faded golden bars.

Amelia studies the boy. “He looks strong,” she says causally. “He has a pretty face. Almost like a woman’s.”

“Could you stand looking at that face for many years to come?” I smile at her. She reminds me so much of myself. I too was picky when it came to my husband. In my bedroom sit nine husk dolls similar to the one in her arms.

“I think so, but I’m not sure.” She looks to me. “Might I wait and decide?”

“You can wait as long as you need.” I stroke her hair lovingly. “If he dies before you decide then we know it was not meant to be.”

My husband is softly crying, realizing that his prison sentence will not be lifted on this night. The boy is pounding at the bars and screaming. I blow out the candles and leave the men to their sorrow. I walk Amelia back to her bedroom.

She sets Squeak on the shelf next to the others. Then she climbs into bed. I kiss her gently on the forehead.

“Is the prophet pleased with me?” she asks quietly.

“Very pleased,” I respond.

She sighs happily and closes her eyes. I tuck her in and leave her. I can still hear the howls from the boy and the soft whimpers of my husband. But my mind is set in the future, when I am gone and my daughter will lead this congregation. I have no doubt she will make an excellent prophet, just as my mother was. Just as I am.


Mortal Kombat X : Johnny Cage / Kitana pre-match intro

(also what I often say to friends when I lose several times at a game but still hope on winning at least once)


Created By jomsims

Post and other things set

Created for: The Sims 4
1-cage letter. misc deco. gold or silver
1-letter box .clutter. gold or silver
1-letter deco 1. clutter .4 differents
1-letter deco 2. clutter. 4 ,differents
1-letter deco lipstick. 3 differents
1-letters deco ribbon. 4 differents
1- mailbox .4 differents.
1- stamp collection. gold or silver
1- pencils pot deco. 3 differents
1-card holder postal with card postal deco. gold or silver
a romantic set clutters for your sims 4