i dont know how people handle the world without looking at pictures of little tiny mice sitting on wheat
powerful…
Joy and whimsy detected! This post is joyful and whimsical 🌾

macklin celebrini has autism
YOU ARE THE REASON

oozey mess
will byers stan first human second
Stranger Things
hello vonnie
noise dept.
h
taylor price
Monterey Bay Aquarium
NASA

Origami Around
Fai_Ryy
art blog(derogatory)
trying on a metaphor
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
icyghini twinkie
EXPECTATIONS
$LAYYYTER

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia
seen from Sweden
seen from United States

seen from T1
seen from United Kingdom
seen from France

seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands

seen from T1

seen from Türkiye
seen from Greece
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
@demonfaggotfurry
i dont know how people handle the world without looking at pictures of little tiny mice sitting on wheat
powerful…
Joy and whimsy detected! This post is joyful and whimsical 🌾

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How much Polish do you know?
- none at all
- only a few basic words/pronunciation
- I can have a simple conversation
- intermediate level fluency
- advanced/near native fluency
- polish is my first language
How much Polish do you know?
none at all
only a few basic words/pronunciation
I can have a simple conversation
intermediate level fluency
advanced/near native fluency
Polish is my first language
i made a higher resolution live slug reaction
bonus: a smiling version :)
okay i kept you all waiting long enough here's the pog version
I’ve never ONCE seen one of these and not being just like…absolutely riddled with tension, so. Keep passing them around, I guess!
trans bears are literally stronger than any US marine
How on earth would they be able to tell that a bear is trans. I’m not saying they can’t be but how would they communicate that.
:/
this is so fucking funny
update:
we the jury find the defendant not guilty your honor
I found this very funny because I had the same thought

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me messaging a casual acquaintance: hello, how are you?
me messaging a best friend w/zero lead-in:
No thoughts just johnny reconnecting with art by making origami figures for you...
Sure, he draws in his notebook, doodles about the witty mechanic he spends too much time around. But he hasn't made anything physical, something that can really be held in the palm of his hands for years now.
It started after you mentioned your love of animals. Soap had pulled off one of the sticky notes you kept on your desk and, with a proud "i think I still know how," soap made a simple origami frog.
The cutest thing you've ever seen, he even drew a face on it.
After that, it was tradition. A little zoo accumulating on your desk. Animals made from notebook paper, origami paper, the printer paper that keeps disappearing from the office. Swans, dinosaurs, foxes and cats.
You'd make some too, insisting soap shows you how it's done. His rough hands over yours, guiding them to be delicate along the crease of paper. You insisted on giving the swan to him.
Then he left.
Price was kind enough to include you in clearing out his room, though you seldom spoke to the other men. You had no idea why until ghost told you "johnny was yours since the beginning. Just...never had the guts to tell you."
You spent days staring at the animals lined up in rows. Thinking.
Surgical precision, the kind taught to you by johnny. You unfold the a swan, and find scribbled on the inside "i think about you all the time." Another, "you're the kindest person i know." After that, "I think I love you."
Each animal a confession handed right to you. Held in your hands and loved.
The swan you made for him joins the animals now moved to your nightstand.
that is the face of a man worried he will be next
Good news, he was not next! In fact, she accepted him as her mate, he learned the crane mating dance and now every year, he artificially inseminates her with crane semen to expand the very endangered crane population. True story.
Sorry, he WHAT? Imagine being this man's boss and having to sit him down like. Listen. Brian. We need you to fuck the bird. You have to act like you're excited about it.
crane husband.....
this is the diametric opposite of all those awful swan wife stories and i love it.
(WalWaPo makes you jump through like three separate hoops before you can read the article, so I will share some of the highlights:
Walnut was born in a species-recovery breeding program in the 1980′s. The program had crane chicks hand-raised by human volunteers, and at that time they did not fully understand the measures necessary make sure that the chicks do not imprint on humans and retain their identity as cranes.
As a result, her keepers believe, Walnut does not recognize other cranes as members of her own species.
It has not been proven that Walnut killed her previous suitors; however, there is a persistent rumor in the white-naped-crane-conservation community that she did.
Because this species is highly endangered, and the gene pool of the captive population is small, it’s pretty important for the survival of her species that Walnut A) mate, and B) not kill a bunch of other cranes.
The actual name of the keeper is Chris Crowe.
They both arrived at the Smithsonian Conservation Biology Institute in 2004.
Walnut immediately began paying special attention to Chris--and ignoring the eligible male crane in a nearby enclosure.
Walnut initiated their courtship, performing the opening moves of a mating dance.
Chris realized that if he reciprocated the mating dance, it might be possible to artificially inseminate Walnut with her participation and consent. (The process normally involves restraining the bird.)
It worked!
Chris and Walnut have had five children, who were raised by other crane couples at the facility--sometimes the biological dad and his mate--both because it’s unclear whether Walnut would accept the chicks as her own, and because Chris is not equipped to be a Crane Dad.
However, the Institute provides her with artificial eggs to sit on, and Chris takes his turn looking after them. (This would not work with real eggs because he can’t sit on them properly, but Walnut seems to feel that he is on the job if he just stands over them.)
Chris accepts that he is pretty much married to this bird. White-naped cranes live to be about 60, and they mate for life, so he knows he can’t retire while Walnut is alive. (At the time of the article, Walnut was 36, and Chris 42.)
Legit cannot pick the funniest part of this
she has not been PROVEN to have killed her exes, but there is a PERSISTENT RUMOR (really officers she's simply DEVASTATED, she sobs, wearing a new feather boa unfortunately resembling her most recent deceased husband)
His name is Chris CROWE. (Mrs. Walnut Crane-Crowe?)
the mental images of a whole human man learning and performing the crane mating dance, and "sitting" on artificial eggs so she thinks he's performing his duties as a husband and father (and apparently OBJECTS if he does not?)
"chris, buddy, you gotta marry the possibly-murderous crane lady for the GOOD OF THE SPECIES." (alternately: "chris, my man! good news! we found you a very interested lady! She's 36, she's very spirited and independent, she holds a very important and rare status in her society! ...Is there a downside? WELL...")
chris sits any potential human partners down, like "my love, you must understand before we wed,,, i am already... Attached" (camera drifts wistfully to the above photo) "Lady Walnut and I have an,, Understanding... the relationship is open, but very committed"
just had to explain this post to my father bc he thought my stifled laughter was a signal of illness.
well done, everyone, good game. hit the showers.
Not only is he 'married' to walnut, this has apparently happened SEVERAL times, so he has MULTIPLE crane wives, none of which know about any of his other crane wives. This man is, for some unknown reason, irresistible to cranes
the “this content has been removed for violating Tumblr’s Community Guidelines” notice really adds a lot of flavor to this post and somehow makes it MORE obscene than whatever that actually was
World Heritage Post
I regret being the bearer of bad news, but I thought it should be shared that Walnut passed away in January of this year (2024). There's a lot of mixed info about the lifespan of cranes (due to people misunderstanding what a median is...) but the average for most species I know of is 20-30 years (in the wild if nothing eats them/they don't die young), and 30-45 in captivity, with the oldest known white-naped crane having loved to be 46. Given that she was 42, this old gal did good, and I'm certain she will be missed by folks here.
Fly on forever Walnut Crane-Crowe
Erika Toliusis (b.1969) - Pacific Angel. 2022. Oil with palette knife on canvas.
@teaboot
Painted with a FUCKING PALETTE KNIFE?
This is the 85 year old creator of Roger Rabbit:

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To be quite honest with you all I do think that aro/ace-spectrum fans in fandoms where people are desperately inventing crossover ships and humanizing non-human characters in order to have a conventionally attractive guy to ship the main character with, instead of possibly having to enjoy a story with no romance in it, have the right to refer to everyone else as cowards.
Dragons are fireless until they undergo the Hroom, the traditional draconic ceremony where a fledgling dragon will go out into the world and make a bargain with a spirit of elemental fire to live in their soul in a state of mutual symbiosis. The spirit receives shelter and nourishment, while the dragon receives a source of elemental fire, which it can only now use to defend itself.
In many draconic cultures, the Hroom marks a dragon’s coming of age, a time to recognize that a dragon is now of a proper age to hold a weapon and defend itself. Some dragons believe that it is only by bonding with an elemental spirit that a dragon has a soul, and that a dragon is only a whole dragon when it has both the mortal shell and the inner spark.
There has been a backlash to this in recent centuries, of course. Fledglings these days are going out and making bargains with all kinds of things. This is usually spirits of elemental lightning and ice, but more than one dragon has come back to their clutch with a fairly bewildered witch.
#Does the witch live inside the dragon's soul after...?
Metaphorically, yes. One dragon had married the witch she brought back to her clutch, and she said that meant their two souls had become one, which was basically the same thing.
The other dragons in her brood said it didn’t work that way, but she was able to breathe pure magic afterwards, so it at least worked that way for her.
Bonds with a pistol shrimp and ends up breathing plasma but with a multimegaton volume of sound, but mostly sits around doting on the shrimp and making sure the aquarium is clean with good pH levels and the shrimp gets lots of enrichment. World's most adorable dragon marine biologist but watch out!
Omg this looks like some sort of Fairytale Horror; like, a town with trees that have missing pets or people etched into them- coming off naturally enough to be dismissed as bark/tree discolouration
The framing of this image is just perfect subtle horror.
Chill it’s a pole
you missed the tree entirely didnt you buddy
HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK
World Heritage Post
A bit of disability representation in my art. Reposts of past comics.
A lot of my comics not included here represent disability also. I just choose not to blatantly tie it to it, as I recognize it can represent other experiences for others.
(I'll come back and input alt text when I have the bandwidth...)
Thinking about how ghost has this uncanny ability to settle babies right down...and yet he has no interest in having one of his own.
That doesn't stop him from knocking on your door while baby screams herself dry at 2am. He can block the noise easily, wouldn't be where he is if he couldn't, but he knows your upstairs neighbor will submit a complaint.
"Ah, sorry for keeping you awake simo–" you mumble, tired when you answer the door. Bags under your eyes, formula on your shirt.
"No. You go sit down. Where is she?" Ghost huffs, squeezing past you through the door. Despite the question, he's already bee-lining to your room, where baby's crying carries through the entire apartment.
"I don't know what's wrong. She's not hungry, not gassy. Won't cuddle, won't suck her paci–" you trail off, dazedly watching simon gently cradle your little girl in his arms and have her settled in mere minutes. "...what."
Your baby, who's made it her life's mission to scream nearly every night, is curling chubby fingers into ghosts hoodie and humming all happy.
"Just needed my jacket, I think. Picky girl," ghost hums fondly, tucking her whole tiny body into one arm. With the other, he steers you towards your bed. "You need to sleep. I'll get her handled, okay?"
Anyone else would say that you're crazy for letting a man you aren't dating or married to be alone in your apartment with your kid. To which you would tell them about how he pulled you out of your darkest moments while trying to parent alone. How he never judges you. How he wants nothing but the best for your little girl.
So you nod, yawn and settle down. "Okay...thank you, simon."
In the morning, baby will be back in her crib snuggled up tight, and ghost will have left a hot jug of coffee on your counter.

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Impressive is Relative
“Gravity generators sure are a great invention,” I said as I looked out at the tiny ocean. I didn’t even have to turn my head quickly to see the curve of the horizon. This place shouldn’t have been big enough to hold an atmosphere, much less the beginnings of a city.
“No joke,” Mur said, idly picking up a rock with one blue-black tentacle and letting it fall. “This one’s quality, too. No hiccups that I’ve noticed yet. In the old days, this asteroid wouldn’t be good for more than mining or a dug-out storage space.”
“How long ago was that?” I asked. “Is artificial gravity a new thing? All I know is it’s older than Earth’s introduction to all this.”
Mur rippled his tentacles in a shrug. “Beats me swimming. It wasn’t invented on my planet, so no one bothered to teach it in school.”
“Really? That seems like an oversight.”
Mur tipped his squid head back to look at me. “Is everyone on Earth taught the origins of every technological advancement ever?”
“Okay, fair point,” I said. “But we do know about the big ones. I could tell you all about the brothers who made the first flying vehicle, or the race between countries to reach the moon first.”
“Right. So who developed the air circulation systems for reaching the moon? The food storage, the propulsion?”
“Uh, somebody along the way,” I said with exaggerated confidence. “Those aren’t nearly as important, though. Artificial gravity seems like a big deal.”
Another ripple. “You just say that because your species never figured it out on your own. A culture that can’t throw things would be astonished if you didn’t know who first invented your ball-throwing sports.”
looking. at you