Ri, 20s, She/They/Ze, Pan, Leo (Aug 5), Neurodivergent nerd. Published Scientist. Medical student. 🇨🇦➡️🇺🇸➡️elsewhere. Lapsed writer. Fanfic devourer. Artist, reader, cosplayer.Chaos gremlin. A member of many fandoms. Icon by Sangled
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For the art request can you draw Sora from Sora Lives Au covered in blood of her enemies please? If it's ok with you? If not her than Joe Spooky? Only if you want to
Just a single mum trying to provide for her family
Just a casual reminder that posting on the internet about how you would want to do physical harm to members of the US government is something that they can (and will) detain you over, so just be careful what you say in public spaces like, uh, on Tumblr.
this is your semi-regular reminder that tumblr has cooperated with the fbi to hand over user information in a very public way at least once. and that's not the only way the feds can collect information on you either
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to me, the cruelest thing that eva stratt does is not the kidnappig itself. it's that she tells grace that he does not even have a dog. dr ryland grace, a man who dedicated his life to the greater good, first to science and then to teaching, does indeed not have a dog. and because of this, he has to spend his last precious moments on his home planet with the full knowledge that while he might be smart enough to save the world, he is not loved enough by anyone on it to be worth saving
Katie Harris is photographed with her Appaloosa. Harris made most of the horse trappings as well as her own traditional outfits herself, including the bead work. Some of the trappings are passed down from older generations but the girls like to make their own to continue the tradition.
The 72-year-old British actor also had roles in shows including Merlin and Little Britain.
British actor Anthony Head, best known for his roles in TV shows including Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Ted Lasso, Merlin and Little Britain, has died at the age of 72.
Head found international fame as Rupert Giles in hit supernatural teen show Buffy in the late 1990s. He went on to have a recurring role in sketch show Little Britain, play king Uther Pendragon in the BBC's Merlin, and appear as former football club owner Rupert Mannion in Ted Lasso.
"He passed away peacefully of complications due to pneumonia, surrounded by his family," his daughters Emily and Daisy said. His daughters' statement said "it is with heavy hearts that we announce the death of our extraordinary father".
They added: "It has been, and forever will be, an honour and a privilege to be his daughters, and to have witnessed firsthand the impact both he and his work have had on so many."
They also said they knew "how dearly he will be missed by friends, colleagues and fans of the show he was in", adding that he "loved his job very much" and "always considered himself incredibly lucky".
His family acknowledged that "his legacy will live on" and said they considered themselves "lucky" to have watched him doing what he loved throughout his career.
Head's other credits included The Iron Lady, Persuasion, The Inbetweeners and Manchild.
“Put him on his knees give him something to believe in” has the exact same energy and depth of meaning as anything Hozier puts out on the regular but since it’s sung by Megan Thee Stallion no one takes it seriously. In this essay I will-
To flesh this out a little bit more: both Megan Thee Stallion and Hozier write and sing really sexual songs, but they’re different in that Hozier’s music is typically “let me worship you” while Megan’s is usually “I’m worshipping myself,” which makes all the difference because it’s an acceptance of power rather than the giving of it. He’s the sinner, she’s the saint. However, taking their difference in genres out of it, people don’t usually seem to take Megan Thee Stallion’s music seriously in comparison to Hozier because a) her lyrics are more overtly and blatantly sexual and b)she’s claiming her sexuality for herself, and that scares a lot of people. The secret, no-one-wants-to-talk-about reason is that she’s a confident black woman, which terrifies people way than sex does. In conclusion, Hozier and Megan Thee Stallion are two sides of the same poetic, sexual coin, but people just don’t want to admit it. Which is WHY a collaboration between Hozier and Megan would be so powerful that it would change the timeline as we know it yes I will elaborate
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Before Qaylie was born, Granddad would come down from the mountain to the town when he was needed. But that was over ten years ago; now he stayed in the mountain, and those who needed him went to him instead.
Qaylie liked to go before it was dawn. The sky was brightening now, a hazy shade of midwinter grey. Wisps of windswept snow had covered the well-worn path, and sat on the pines in grey, sullen lumps.
Icicles glittered around the mouth of Granddad's cave, turning the crevice into a grinning, toothy mouth.
She grinned back. She cupped her mittens around her mouth, and shouted, "GRANDDAD!"
The winter air echoed the word. And then the sound began, the low, grinding, scraping noise of metal on stone. It sounded huge. It sounded heavy.
It sounded old.
It was.
Granddad pulled his head out of his cave. Things tied into his horns - jewelery, bottles, skulls, tied together with fishing nets and bits of rope and lengths of yarn - clinked and clattered and clanged against each other in a ghoulish windchime.
He was missing a tusk. The other had been carved into scrimshaw depicting a valley full of fire, the flames twisting into awful, leering faces.
He pulled himself out of the cave. His neck was a carpet of wrinkles. His talons pulled his bloated, scarred belly across the stone. His fleshless wings hung limp at his sides. He was the colour of cold iron, and he was the shape of a nightmare.
He wore spectacles. One of the lenses was a round stained-glass window from the church back in town.
Qaylie held out the pack. "O Great And Terrible Baradir The Red!" she recited. "I Come Bearing A Tithe, In The Awful And Desperate Fear That You May Not Yet Snuff Out Our Fleeting Lives."
The dragon hummed. Pebbles and little bits of ice vibrated with the sound. "And I accept it," he rumbled. "And may you live to grant me more tithes, you tiny, ill-born, insignificant insect."
The two stared at each other, refusing to let a flicker of emotion cross their faces.
Qaylie broke first. She sprung, laughing, and wrapped her arms around Granddad's snout.
"Happy birthday, Granddad," she said.
Granddad laughed. Under the cool, black scales, Qaylie could just feel the furnace glow.
***
"Tolma made you some more string art," said Qaylie, pulling out the awful webby thing from the pack.
"She's getting better at it," said Granddad, hooking it on the end of one massive talon.
"And Burk's made you some more jam - he's trying stonefruit again, he knows you like it."
"Oh, lovely."
"Granddad?"
"Hm?"
"There's another dragonslayer in town."
Granddad didn't say anything. He was staring in apparent fascination at the string art.
She wondered how well he could actually see these days. His black eyes glistened with so many glittering cataracts that they looked like windows into a sky full of stars.
"Dad's seeing how long they can stall him," said Qaylie. "They want to hold it off until after today at least."
Granddad carefully hung the string art off one horn, where it hung alongside a cuckoo clock and the skull of an elf.
He smiled at her. "I'll be sure to send him packing then," he rumbled with something like fierce pride. "Just like all the other ones, eh?"
Qaylie pursed her lips. "Packing" wasn't the right word for it. Qaylie had seen four dragonslayers come to the town over her life. They came in gleaming armor, and they swaggered like the weight of the world made their legs wobble. Then they'd come back down from the mountain, looking embarrassed and rather thoughtful.
Most of them left after that.
But... but there had been some trouble with that last one.
She began tracing a looping shape in the snow with a stick. "Granddad?"
"Hm?"
The words were treacherous and refused to leave her heart.
If she was able to, she'd say something like: "You're getting very old, and eventually there's going to be one dragonslayer who won't care that you're just a silly old crocodile who likes terrible string art and always lights the midwinter bonfire and always tells the terrible dirty joke about the gryphon and always-"
"You know the funny thing about that horizon?" Granddad rumbled.
She blinked, and realized that tears were starting to form in the corners of her eyes. She rubbed them away angrily. "Sorry?"
"There used to be a mountain there," he said, squinting his night sky eyes at a bare patch of horizon. "I remember it well. It was shaped like a - well, it had a very memorable shape.
"But it's not there now. I can't remember what happened to it."
She stared at him. "Isn't that odd?" he said. "A mountain. It should've been there forever. And now that I'm looking for it, I can't see it any more."
He shook his head, his decorated horns making little clattering noises. "Humans think that the world will never change. That tomorrow will be like today, and that old dragons will always be there. Like mountains should be.
"But the world is always changing, Qaylie. Once you get to my age, it never stops changing. The mountains roll and crumble and fold in on themselves. The rivers split and disappear, and new rivers come and carve canyons across my valley. I've watched more empires than you can count form and try to take this valley from me."
He grinned at the images playing in his mind. "Oh, how they burned. The world is always changing, but that sound is one thing that never does. And then someday..."
He sighed. He looked somehow even older than before. "Mountains disappear."
He stared at that empty spot on the horizon.
He said: "Don't use your sleeve."
"Sorry, Granddad."
He unhooked what might’ve been an old battle flag from his horns. "Here's a tissue."
There were some soggy noises.
"I don't want it to change," Qaylie muttered through the fabric.
Granddad butted her with his snout. She looked up into a sky full of stars. "Ah, but that's the special thing about dragons," he said. "I am Baradir the Red, and this valley will never forget my fire."
And then the dawn broke - creeping over the mountain ridge with the dull, inevitable pace of a glacier, and trailing red light across the clouds, the frost on the pines blazing with orange light -
Like little glowing embers.
And as Qaylie watched, the valley below was filled with silent, gleaming fire.
"But it's not FOR them!!!" The biggest military power in the world belongs to a christofascist nation overseen by a felon found guilty of 34 federal crimes and has greenlit a gestapo with more direct funding than the entire military of Canada for the purpose of ethnic cleansing. Let Hetero Jessica throw some biodegradable glitter at a municipal parade
This is a vevor 16.5 ft bell tent (it's gone up in price since I bought it but it's pretty reasonable value for money) painted with latex exterior house paint, the cheapest stuff they had at menards. I used a folding foam mattress on top of the four storage bins my gear was packed in as a cot--quite comfy and practical; I'm going to cut a sheet of plywood as a bin topper and do that again for sure. The guyline shorteners are just sections of 2x2 furring strips, cut and painted. There's documentation on the process for nearly all of this here already.
This whole project was heavily inspired by the work of Lina Shamoon/ Mirrors by Lina (website here, check out her very cool and much higher quality work). My spin on things is definitely not made as well as her stuff, but I'm still loving the effect.
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My favorite category of government program to run across is "program you've never heard of doing extremely important work to solve a major problem which you have also never heard of." On that note, the US drops millions of pounds of sterile bugs over Panama each week in order to prevent a parasite infestation from moving into North America. Everyone say thank you to the Panama-United States Commission for the Eradication and Prevention of the Cattle Borer Worm (COPEG)
This program had its funding cut during the DOGE cuts last year and now the parasitic worm they were trying to slow the spread of has officially arrived in the United States.
Friendly reminder as we get closer to the launch of the ModRetro M64. ModRetro is owned by Palmer Lucky, a self described “Radical Zionist” who fundraises for Donald Trump.
Palmer Lucky also has another company, called Anduril Industries, that manufactures and sells AI powered weapons and surveillance systems. ModRetro even sells Anduril branded gameboys that were made from the same metal that they use to manufacture attack drones.
Don’t buy this thing. A 200 dollar Nintendo 64 clone is not worth your soul.
The reason I’m bringing this up now is because there seems to be a new marketing push happening for this device. It’s all over my feed on TT and IG right now.
They seem to be pushing the fact that there are new Nintendo64 games being made for the M64. This is very misleading because any game that runs on the M64 will run on a real Nintendo 64.
There’s also been new games coming out for the Nintendo 64 for years. ModRetro didn’t make this happen. They’re just publishing a few games. The Nintendo 64 Homebrew scene has been thriving on its own.