kavita shetty styled by astrid chu
Cosmic Funnies
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TVSTRANGERTHINGS

@theartofmadeline
One Nice Bug Per Day
🪼
AnasAbdin
todays bird

Kiana Khansmith

if i look back, i am lost

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

tannertan36
occasionally subtle
Peter Solarz

Love Begins
Misplaced Lens Cap
tumblr dot com
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

seen from Malaysia
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@meru187
kavita shetty styled by astrid chu

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Scanned from the book Regards sur le Niger; 1978; Michel Renaudeau & Ide Oumarou
Aang having the privilege of growing up with airbenders all around him and learning airbending straight from the monks in his temple but having to live the rest of his life as the last air nomad with no one to share his culture with.
Vs
Katara having the privilege of still having her people and culture but not ever being able to learn southern waterbending style because she never met another southern waterbender and only knowing the northern way of fighting and also having to grow up quicker.
Aang wishes he has the community Katara has and Katara wishes she had a childhood Aang had.
hmm... *gets in evil bed and holds my evil stuffed animal* evil night.. *turns off my fucked up evil lamp*

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congrats you're officially a witch
I was working on a history paper today and found a book from 1826 that seemed promising (though dull) for my topic, on an English Catholic family’s experience moving to France.
And it ended up not really being suitable for my purposes, as it goes. But part of the book is actually devoted to Kenelm, the author’s oldest son…and man, his dad loved him.
Kenelm seems to have had a fairly typical upbringing for a young English gentleman, although he is a bit slow to read. At twelve he’s sent to board at Stoneyhurst College—often the big step towards independence in a boy’s life, as he’ll most likely only see his parents sporadically from now on, and then leave for university.
When he’s sixteen, however, his father moves the whole family to France, so Kenelm gets pulled out of school to be with them again. Shortly after the move, his dad notices that he seems depressed. Kenelm confides in him that he’s been suffering from “scruples” for the last eighteen months—most likely what we’d now call an anxiety disorder.
And his dad is pissed—at the school, because apparently Kenelm had been seeking help there and received none, despite obviously struggling with mental health issues. So his dad takes it seriously. He sets him up to be counseled by a priest—there were no therapists back then—and doesn’t send him away to be boarded again, instead teaching him at home himself.
And his mental health does improve. His dad describes him as well-liked, gentle, pious, kind and eager to please others; at twenty he’s thinking about a career in diplomacy or going into the military—which his dad thinks he is not particularly suited for, considering his favorite pastimes are drawing and reading. He’s excited about his family’s upcoming move to Italy, and he’s been busy learning Italian and teaching it to his siblings.
Henry Kenelm Beste dies of typhus at twenty years, four months, and twenty-five days. That’s how his dad records it. That’s why his dad is telling this story. It’s not an extraordinary story—Kenelm’s story struck me because he sounds so…ordinary, like so many kids today. And he was so, so loved. His dad tried hard to help him compassionately with his mental health at a time where our current knowledge and support systems didn’t exist. You can feel how badly he wanted his son to be remembered and loved, to impress how dearly beloved he was to the people who knew him in life.
I hope he’d be glad to know someone is still thinking of Kenelm over 200 years later.
Anyway, that’s why I’m crying today.
@istradion

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I am so utterly fascinated by “Saki”, the 18-year-running mahjong manga in which you, the reader, become gradually, frog-boilingly aware (over the course of nearly two decades’ worth of mahjong tournaments) that none of these girls are wearing underwear and most of their boobs are slowly expanding.
I need you to understand that I have, like, an anthropological level fascination with this comic. From the perspective of someone who is also a comic artist and writer, two things delight me about it:
the fact that I understand completely how an artist gets from “the fans can have a little hint of skirted asscheek” to “the pussy is completely out on center page” over the course of 18 years; and
the way in which the pussy being out is treated by the characters and diegesis as being utterly unremarkable.
I have so many questions... How does one SUSPECT a manga character isn't wearing underwear? Like, sure, boobs are front and center amd you can see them get bigger panel by panel but how does this work for panties? Are there just that many upskirt shots?
Also how do you keep a manga about Mahjong going for 18 years, what??
Like this, mostly.
The boobs thing is arguably even funnier
I have an important update to this saga:
In chapter 299, the main character unleashes a special attack (???), and immediately after, her boobs DEFLATE BACK DOWN TO A REASONABLE SIZE
And then later in the match, she has to use another special move
And now she's completely flat-chested
In Saki, magical mahjongg power is literally stored in the boobs, which in my opinion is the best possible explanation for all this.

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When your hamster shoves an entire stick of zucchini in his cheek and then goes about his day. 🤣
“He’s not going to fit that in his cheek.”
“Oh, he’s chewing it, it’ll be smaller.”
“He can’t possibly-”
“shit, I guess he can.”
IT’S AS BIG AS HE IS