Maru tries out some new looks. [full video]
Sweet Seals For You, Always
trying on a metaphor
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we're not kids anymore.
One Nice Bug Per Day
d e v o n
Three Goblin Art

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JVL
Jules of Nature
todays bird
sheepfilms
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Love Begins
Not today Justin
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祝日 / Permanent Vacation
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@evafortuna
Maru tries out some new looks. [full video]

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Woon Young, on Tumblr and Big Cartel
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SO into this!
MAN ALIVE these are good
I made a species ref sheet for one of the main alien species in my space story. Things to note: this is not a free-create species. Sires usually use he/him pronouns and are smallest. Donors and Dams usually use she/her pronouns and are larger. Those things on their heads are not dreadlocks. I will color this I hope soon.
oi oi look i drew.
I made a species ref sheet for one of the main alien species in my space story. Things to note: this is not a free-create species. Sires usually use he/him pronouns and are smallest. Donors and Dams usually use she/her pronouns and are larger. Those things on their heads are not dreadlocks. I will color this I hope soon.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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do you ever get so annoyed at everything that you start to get pissed off at even little things like a spoon clinking against a bowl or sounds of people talking
I think it’s called sensory overload. It’s really common in people with anxiety
it can also be a result of sleep deprivation, stress, or ever dehydration !!
thanks i thought i was just a bitch
I am just a bitch but also this happens a lot to me
…wait what?
#thevagabondtabby #wtf #wherethesidewalkends http://ift.tt/2frzaAn
Concept: Person A has a crush on Person B, but Person B is dating someone else. Rather than sitting around angsting about it, Person A decides to take matters their own hands… by seducing both of them.
Hear his mighty roar.
this vine fixes everything
persephone: whos a good boys?? cerberus: :0 ??? :O ???? :o ???? persephone: youre a good boys!! all of you!! such good boys!! cerberus: :D!!!!!!! :O!!!!!!! :Dc !!!!!!!!!

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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persephone: whos a good boys?? cerberus: :0 ??? :O ???? :o ???? persephone: youre a good boys!! all of you!! such good boys!! cerberus: :D!!!!!!! :O!!!!!!! :Dc !!!!!!!!!
writing-prompt-s:
Valhalla does not discriminate against the kind of fight you lost. Did you lose the battle with cancer? Maybe you died in a fist fight. Even facing addiction. After taking a deep drink from his flagon, Odin slams his cup down and asks for the glorious tale of your demise!
Oh my god, this is beautiful.
A small child enters Valhalla. The battle they lost was “hiding from an alcoholic father.” Odin sees the flinch when he slams the cup and refrains from doing it again. He hears the child’s pain; no glorious battle this, but one of fear and wretched survival.
He invites the child to sit with him, offers the choicest mead and instructs his men to bring a sword and shield, a bow and arrow, of the very best materials and appropriate size. “Here,” he says, “you will find no man who dares to harm you. But so you will know your own strength, and be happy all your days in Valhalla, I will teach you to use these weapons.”
The sad day comes when another child enters the hall. Odin does not slam his cup; he simply beams with pride as the first child approaches the newcomer, and holds out her bow and quiver, and says “nobody here will hurt you. Everyone will be so proud you did your best, and I’ll teach you to use these, so you always know how strong you are.”
————
A young man enters the hall. He hesitates when Odin asks his story, but at long last, it ekes out: skinheads after the Pride parade. His partner got into a building and called for help. The police took a little longer than perhaps they really needed to, and two of those selfsame skinheads are in the hospital now with broken bones that need setting, but six against one is no fair match. The fear in his face is obvious: here, among men large enough to break him in two, will he face an eternity of torment for the man he left behind?
Odin rumbles with anger. Curses the low worms who brought this man to his table, and regales him with tales of Loki so to show him his own welcome. “A day will come, my friend, when you seek to be reunited, and so you shall,” Odin tells him. “To request the aid of your comrades in battle is no shameful thing.”
———-
A woman in pink sits near the head of the table. She’s very nearly skin and bones, and has no hair. This will not last; health returns in Valhalla, and joy, and light, and merrymaking. But now her soul remembers the battle of her life, and it must heal.
Odin asks.
And asks again.
And the words pour out like poisoned water, things she couldn’t tell her husband or children. The pain of chemotherapy. The agony of a mastectomy, the pain still deeper of “we found a tumor in your lymph nodes. I’m so sorry.” And at last, the tortured question: what is left of her?
Odin raises his flagon high. “What is left of you, fair warrior queen, is a spirit bright as fire; a will as strong as any forged iron; a life as great as any sea. Your battle was hard-fought, and lost in the glory only such furor can bring, and now the pain and fight are behind you.“
In the months to come, she becomes a scop of the hall–no demotion, but simple choice. She tells the stories of the great healers, Agnes and Tanya, who fought alongside her and thousands of others, who turn from no battle in the belief that one day, one day, the war may be won; the warriors Jessie and Mabel and Jeri and Monique, still battling on; the queens and soldiers and great women of yore.
The day comes when she calls a familiar name, and another small, scarred woman, eyes sunken and dark, limbs frail, curly black hair shaved close to her head, looks up and sees her across the hall. Odin descends from his throne, a tall and foaming goblet in his hands, and stuns the hall entire into silence as he kneels before the newcomer and holds up the goblet between her small dark hands and bids her to drink.
“All-Father!” the feasting multitudes cry. “What brings great Odin, Spear-Shaker, Ancient One, Wand-Bearer, Teacher of Gods, to his knees for this lone waif?”
He waves them off with a hand.
“This woman, LaTeesha, Destroyer of Cancer, from whom the great tumors fly in fear, has fought that greatest battle,” he says, his voice rolling across the hall. “She has fought not another body, but her own; traded blows not with other limbs but with her own flesh; has allowed herself to be pierced with needles and scored with knives, taken poison into her very veins to defeat this enemy, and at long last it is time for her to put her weapons down. Do you think for a moment this fight is less glorious for being in silence, her deeds the less for having been aided by others who provided her weapons? She has a place in this great hall; indeed, the highest place.”
And the children perform feats of archery for the entertainment of all, and the women sing as the young man who still awaits his beloved plays a lute–which, after all, is not so different from the guitar he once used to break a man’s face in that great final fight.
Valhalla is a place of joy, of glory, of great feasting and merrymaking.
And it is a place for the soul and mind to heal.
I’M NOT CRYING YOU’RE CRYING
THIS IS GLORIOUS
Beautiful.
Well I AM crying and have no shame in admitting it. Absoutely beautiful!
A woman enters the hall, arms wrapped tight around her. Her hair is dirty, red rimmed eyes hollow. Her clothes are worn, her soul is shadowed and grey.
Odin asks and all she says is ‘I’m sorry.’
Odin asks again, voice low and warm like the embers of a fire.
‘I’m tired,’ the woman says.
‘Then drink and rest,’ Odin says offering up a goblet filled to the very brim.
The woman shakes her head, tears welling from some deep place echoing with the cold and salt of bitter waves. It takes time before the woman speaks of a life lived on the edge, the battle each day from morning to night, the dark thoughts that dwell within.
'You have long fought the twin demons of Depression and Anxiety, Warrior Maiden. The darkness is all consuming, with thoughts sharp as blades, and tongues of acid to wrap around your soul. There is no shame in the help you needed, with words and healing potions. It is time to lay down your weapons, your fight is over. You have a place in this hall, to rest and heal from the demons that fed on your soul.’
Yeah I'm crying
Two completely heterosexual men’s shirts featuring prints of men enjoying sports together, just as God intended.
1948-1952
The FIDM Museum
Meet Aurora, The Fluffy Cat Princess
“It’s good to be a princess.”
Photos by Princess Aurora Purr

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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MY NOZOELI ZINE PIECE!! First copies were sold at SMASH last month and will be sold again at Brisbane Supernova Convention.
“But Kari, you are not Australian and neither am I!” WELL, there’s gonna be online sales going up soon that I’ll link to! This version will even have STICKERS bundled in, one of which I designed too!
AAAAAIE <3
Saturday morning purr sesh (make sure to turn on the sound)