Nathan MacKinnon’s Two Tylenol Commercials For Those Who Were Having A Hard Time Seeing Them On Vimeo.

brock nelson just took a stick to the nose... safe to say he's seeing stars... i'm funny right?

who's the biggest twink in rdr?

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you’ve been walking for hours.

the snow crunches under your boots, soft and stubborn. it’s early, not quite morning, not quite night. that weird blue hour where the trees blur together and everything looks like a painting. ellie’s a few feet ahead of you, rifle slung over her shoulder, her other hand jammed in her pocket. she’s humming something under her breath, low and tuneless. probably doesn’t even know she’s doing it.

you’d followed her out this morning for patrol. well, you offered. she didn’t say no, just raised her eyebrows and said, “hope you’re not squeamish." you’re not. mostly.

but now, hours in, no infected in sight, she’s kneeling in the snow next to a fallen log, flipping through her beat up sketchbook. her gloves are hanging out of her pocket, her fingers red from the cold as she shades something in with a pencil. you awkwardly hover behind her, “what’re you drawing?” you ask, voice soft like it might break something.

ellie glances up at you, a smudge of graphite on her cheekbone. she shrugs. “just saw a rabbit earlier. figured i’d get it down before i forgot.”

you lean over her shoulder, watching the strokes of her pencil. the sketch is rough but careful, ellie’s kind of careful. like she’s scared of getting it wrong but doesn’t wanna show it.

“you’re really good,” you say.

she makes a face like she doesn’t believe you. “sure.”

you chew your lip, glancing at the empty space on the corner of the page. “can i… try?”

ellie blinks. “seriously?”

“yeah.” you shrug, trying to act casual. “i used to doodle stuff. nothing good.”

she hesitates, like she’s about to make a joke. then she just passes the sketchbook to you and says, “don’t fuck it up.” but her tone is warm and teasing. safe.

you sit down next to her on the log, your thighs brushing, the cold seeping through your jeans. the pencil’s warm from her hand. you look at the blank corner and freeze up a little.

“shit,” you mutter. “how do you even start?”

ellie leans in, her shoulder pressed to yours. “just find the shape first. don’t think about the details.”

you glance at her, and she’s already looking at you, her mouth half quirked up in this lopsided grin that makes your stomach do something annoying.

you try to draw a bird. you saw one earlier—a little brown thing that darted through the trees like it had somewhere important to be. your lines are shaky, clumsy. your rabbit looks more like a lumpy sock. you scowl. ellie snorts.

“okay, rude,” you say.

“what? i didn’t say anything.”

you nudge her with your elbow and she laughs, low and scratchy. “nah, it’s not that bad,” she adds. “here, lemme…”

she takes the pencil from you and lightly draws over your lines, fixing the shape, softening the angles. her hand rests over yours, steady and sure, and you swear you forget how to breathe for a second.

you look up at her. she’s close. too close. but you don’t move.

“see?” she murmurs. “not bad.”

you nod, eyes still on her, and for a second, the snow stops falling and the cold doesn’t matter and the whole world feels quiet.

ellie blinks down at you. her voice, when she speaks, is barely above a whisper.

“you, uh… ever come out here just to hang?”

you smile. “maybe i will.”

she grins, it looked crooked and nervous, but it was cute.

you stay like that for a while. shoulders touching, breath clouding in the cold, sketchbook balanced between you. maybe the hunt wasn’t the point after all.

two sentence horror

i was sitting in my bredroom.

freddy freakbear was outside.

this is what happened right

i'm gonna shoot myself

i just drove by a huge zoo and it hurts to see.

zoos are institutions that cage living, breathing, intelligent beings—many of whom are capable of complex thought, emotion, and social behavior— strictly for human entertainment. the idea of placing animals in cages or enclosures for observation and amusement is something we've inherited from earlier centuries, a time when little was understood about animal cognition or emotional capacity. but today, we know better. we know that elephants mourn their dead, that primates form lifelong bonds, that big cats are meant to roam miles each day, and that even the most "lowly" animals have instincts and needs we still don’t fully understand. yet we continue to imprison them for no reason other than our own curiosity and profit. in zoos animals are stripped of everything that makes their lives natural and fulfilling. they lose their freedom to roam, their opportunity to hunt or forage, their privacy, and often their families. animals that would travel dozens or even hundreds of miles in the wild are confined to enclosures so small they can walk end to end in seconds. imagine the mental toll this takes. it’s no shocker that animals in zoos often develop abnormal behaviors. pacing, head bobbing, excessive grooming, rocking back and forth, behaviors not found in the wild. these are signs of psychological distress, not quirks to be laughed at by passing visitors. one of the biggest myths used to defend zoos is that they help with conservation. but if you really look into it, that argument doesn't hold much weight. the vast majority of animals in zoos are not endangered. many are there simply because they’re popular or exotic. when endangered species are bred in captivity, they are rarely released into the wild. instead, they spend their lives on display, far from the ecosystems they’re supposedly being saved for. conservation in its truest form means protecting wild habitats, funding anti poaching initiatives, and preserving biodiversity in nature. NOT creating artificial environments that barely mimic the real world. education is another claim zoos love to make. and yes, you can learn the names and appearances of animals by walking through a zoo. but what kind of education is that, really? what are we teaching children when we show them wild animals in unnatural, confined settings? are we teaching them to respect wildlife, or to view animals as things that exist for our entertainment? there’s a huge difference between truly understanding an animal’s life and merely staring at one from the other side of a glass wall. and then there’s the matter of profit. for many zoos, especially those in large cities, animals are essentially attractions. flashy exhibits, animal shows, petting zoos, photo ops, these are all designed to increase revenue. the animals themselves become tools in a marketing strategy. they don’t get to choose whether they’re on display. they don’t get a day off. they don’t get to say no. even in zoos with the best intentions, the underlying business model still treats animals as commodities. of course there are people who work in zoos who genuinely care about animals. there are veterinarians, caretakers, and staff members who do their best to give the animals a decent life. but individual compassion doesn’t erase systemic harm. it’s possible to care deeply and still be working within a broken system. the problem isn’t the people, it’s the structure that makes it acceptable to cage living beings for life. there are better alternatives. true sanctuaries focus on rescuing animals from abusive situations and giving them a life that’s as close to natural as possible. they don’t breed animals for profit or allow petting for selfies. they prioritize animal needs over public entertainment. likewise, supporting wildlife conservation efforts in the field, like protecting forests, oceans, grasslands, helps animals live where they truly belong: in the wild, not in glass boxes or concrete pits.

animals are not here for us. they are not exhibits or props. they are individuals with their own lives to live, not behind bars, not in enclosures, but in the vast, complex, wild world where they belong. it’s time WE stop supporting systems that tell us otherwise.

*vomits* yayyy my team wonnn

no wondering why daniel had to deny over and over that they were not in a relationship

nathan mackinnon actually isn't real he's apart of your imagination