we're shrimps (also known as kat or charlie), we're an endogenic plural system. we use they/e/it pronouns collectively. pfp by our wonderful friend @robinflock <3 reblog our pinned post its necessary for our mental health
banner image id: tumblr post by doctorcurdlejr. it reads: "I can be normal about things. Don't look at my blog." end id.
pfp image id: a soggy gray-and-white cat with large, wet, purple eyes. it is overlaid on the disability pride flag. end id.
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as a person who is not yet registered to vote and has never in my life voted i am going to start saying "well i didn't vote for them" about elected officials
I put some helpful measurements on the axes of the world map to help people measure countries and things on them 😊😊 I wonder why nobody's thought to do this before 😊😊😊
I do think it's kind of funny when plot summaries are like "character A encounters the last person they expected...their ex." Idk about you guys I'd be less surprised if my new coworker/roommate/random dance partner was my ex than I would if it was, like, Megawati Sukarnoputri the first woman president of Indonesia.
Any of my exes could plausibly attend the same conference as me. But I'd be really surprised to encounter former US Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice
This poll is ambiguous if you (a) Don't have an ex or (b) Are Egyptian diplomat Hassan Gamal Ahmad Hassan, whose marriage to Megawati Sukarnoputri was anulled in 1972.
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Marcus stopped abruptly in the middle of the grass. A woman in a blue dress was already sitting on the Crisis Bench. He didn’t recognize the dress. She looked up from where she was sitting.
“Sorry,” he said, holding up his hands. “I didn’t think anyone would be over here.” He didn’t think he remembered an introduction to anyone in that dress. It was a memorable sort of a dress. “I believe I ran into your mother inside?” he ventured, because he ran into so many mothers.
“She’s not here,” she said, which was not what he wanted to hear and which he absolutely could not handle at the moment.
“Right,” he said, trying to recover, pretending as if he’d just remembered something. “Your father–”
“We haven’t met,” she interrupted. “I’m not anyone.”
“Oh thank god,” he said, abandoning propriety to collapse onto the bench, dropping his head between his knees. “Thank you.”
“Too many people?” she said sympathetically.
“I’m really bad with faces,” he admitted.
“A lot of people are,” she assured him.
He dragged his hands down his face. “I just confused a Duke with a waiter.”
She bit her lip. “As long as you aren’t rude to waiters, you should be fine,” she said.
“I wasn’t rude,” he said. “I’m never rude. It would have been better if I was rude.” He buried his face in his hands. “I tipped him,” he said, anguished, muffled by his palms. Why had he been dressed like a waiter?
She burst out laughing, loud and with her head tipped back, overwhelming the empty garden. He separated his fingers to stare at her.
“Sorry,” she hiccuped, which immediately descended back into snorts. She laughed like she was hunting for truffles.
“Thanks,” he said, though he almost did feel better. “I’m feeling very supported in my time of need.”
“There’s only one thing you can do,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes, trying to dab at them to not destroy her makeup. Reflexively, he offered her a handkerchief, which she accepted. “You have to flee the country. It’s the only way.” She checked the handkerchief for signs of smeared eyeliner. “Leave your family. Change your name. Get a new family. Never tell them your dark secret.”
“I think my old family might notice if I got a new family,” he said, now resting his chin in his hands, elbows balanced on his knees.
“That’s why you have to burn your house down,” she said matter-of-factly, now holding his handkerchief in a neat fold in her lap. “Just burn the whole thing. Everything but your favorite hat. You leave the hat on top of the ashes for your family to find. ‘This must be him’ they’ll say. 'He would never have left his favorite hat’. It’s the perfect crime. Once it’s done, you become a pig farmer. Anyone comes around asking questions, you feed them to the pigs.”
“You seem like you’ve put a lot of thought into this,” he observed. “How are your pigs?”
She looked him over sidelong. “Hungry,” she said primly.
I am too fearful of the night to ever really uncomplicately love the stars
which sounds sad but if you think about it, that's not all bad; it adds excitement and thrill, which I think has real value even though I recognize that's fueled by motivated reasoning, plus probably it almost certainly heightens my perception of how great the stars are, by contrast,
Cosmic horror story about the protagonist being driven mad by having forbidden knowledge seared into their mind in which it gradually becomes clear that the protagonist is a housecat and the terrible gnosis that renders even their most familiar intimacies alien to them is the ability to do first grade math.
They have difficulty functioning in their daily life because they're constantly seeing maddening patterns beyond mundane perception, but those patterns are merely the product of being able to count higher than three. All forgetting to eat as they obsessively count the pieces of dry kibble in their bowl.
hello it is me the unofficial number one sabresenn fan. if this will convince you to let sabre win this, i will personally ensure sabre bakes banana bread, possibly with something else to your enjoyment if it convinces you. i will also bake banana bread for you if this convinces you. please have mercy on the rat i have heard of your glorious endeavors with my good pal strangleduo fanblog and there is fear in my heart
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Thank-you to all of my new Internet stranger friends for being so gracious about having my post shoved onto your dashboards. I loved reading all of your kind tags and comments! Both Martin and Bosco have been gone for several years now but for 24 hours, they felt very present in my life. I greatly appreciate this gift. ❤️
one day for april fools ethoslab should hire an editor to make him an episode with the production style of a tommyinnit video or something and then he just never acknowelgdes it and goes back to his normal style forever after.
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one day for april fools ethoslab should hire an editor to make him an episode with the production style of a tommyinnit video or something and then he just never acknowelgdes it and goes back to his normal style forever after.
one day for april fools ethoslab should hire an editor to make him an episode with the production style of a tommyinnit video or something and then he just never acknowelgdes it and goes back to his normal style forever after.
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