RRC's art alt

woke up this morning, rolled over, and very confidently tried to blow out my alarm clock like a candle. absolutely no precedent for that.

Ebeneezer in 1742 wakes with a start as for some reason he has put out his guttering candle by slapping atop it ith the palm of his hand. His hand is burned and his nightgown and cap are spattered with hot wax.

Fascinated by the perceived necessity of an Equivalent Exchange

"just a trauma bond" daaamnnnn and we've lost the plot huh 😔 How do you miss half the themes and character motives like that? sighhhhh

someone apologized for commenting late… 2 months after the fic was posted 😭😭 girl that’s EARLY thats fresh

sorry for the late addition, but one of my fav fics was carved into the walls of an ancient upper paleolithic cave and thus must have been posted over 10 000 years ago.... can i still comment??

yes. Im fact, you must. Tis required

OP where do you think Boston is located.

it's an unincorporated territory

as a southerner I am offended we’ve been renamed New Mexico we should have been Texas because they always film southern movies in anywhere BUT Texas and say it takes place in Texas. Might as well call it all Texas at this damn point

Too bad!! NUEVA MEXICOOOOOOO

#nuevo mexico you pendejo

Visceral is EASILY top ten words that feel good as fuck to place precisely into your essay one glorious time

I know tumblr has accepted the whole “cat’s internal monologue is a desolate Victorian child” thing but what if a cat’s internal monologue was Gollum/Sméagol

-scratching the floor near their bowl- “Nasty, filthy dry foods they serves us. We wants soft, juicy morsels from the canses.”

-sitting in the window- “What’s it doing, precious? What noises it makes with pointy mouth. We wants it…”

“Wicked, tricksy humanses doesn’t feeds us in hours. Must reminds them or we’ll starve. Wait for dinners? Oh no. That would kill us! Kill us!”

-bringing dead animals to owner- “Look! Look! See what good kitty finds! Eat them! Eat them!”

There are many flavors of cats. Victorian child cats and Gollum cats are both equally valid.

imagine you are fifteen years old taking your little sister to the grocery store because your dad is busy and your grandmother is old and you need food. as you turn a corner you accidentally ram your shopping cart into God with a capital G and he promises to show you the world you’ve never seen from inside the ten square miles of your hometown in exchange for your company. you hate the risk but your demigod sister has untapped potential and an unrelenting determination to get ghost, so you follow God with a capital G through heaven and hell and back. God with a capital G is twelve and wiser than even your grandmother and treats everything like a game and he’s your brother now and suddenly you would (and have and will) kill and die for him. your first love becomes a different god and you add her name to the list of things (your childhood, your vulnerability, your parents, your safety) you don’t have the time to grieve right now (or ever) and you become a man on foreign soil and your dad isn’t there to see it. you are fifteen and God with a capital G’s best friend and your little sister– sisters, now– are the most powerful demigods on the planet and you are the only one keeping three divine tweens focused on saving the world and you are still not allowed to say fuck.

I thought this was the strangest short fiction I’d ever read until I checked the tags. Yeah, I guess ATLA is kinda crazy isn’t it

You were briefly possessed by victor hugo