people keep asking for picture of my cats but I simply don't have any good ones yet u-u; they're all distant cryptid-type things
this is currently the best I can give u
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people keep asking for picture of my cats but I simply don't have any good ones yet u-u; they're all distant cryptid-type things
this is currently the best I can give u

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i trust you two more than anything
idk man not to sound like a cartoon hippie but if your entirrrrre blog and dash is about how the world sucks and everyones bigoted i think you are going to give yorself brain worms
"ah but all of this is important and true and if i dont reblog all of this important stuff waga baga THE WORMS! THATS WORMS! THE BRAIN WORMS!
i do not think you are doing activism chief i think what you are doing is sitting in your room flagellating yourself expecting something to happen
been having health issues, in a foul mood, I DEMAND YOU TELL ME A STORY whilst i languish in bed like a sickly victorian lord wasting away from consumption (as my stoic but broad-shouldered valet gently wipes the sweat from my trembling brow)
My Lord, I have a story for you to ponder, and it is one of my best.
Once upon a time, in a kingdom that was not enormously large, nor very small, there lived a sad and lonely princess.
She was not sad because she was lonely, as one might believe, but rather she was lonely because she was sad. All of her ladies in waiting would chitter and pace at her bedside, urging her to rise, to dress in some of her many fancy adornments, and leave her tower to go and dance in the great hall with them, but the princess always declined.
Soon, they stopped asking.
For years, people lost their will to bother her. She was alone in her tower, and as the months passed her loneliness grew until she could do nothing else but stare out of her decorated window and sigh wistfully out it at the common people below.
But dear lord, this is not a sad tale, I promise it.
For in this kingdom there lived a strange and magical creature. Members of this kingdom might not know what it was called, or where he was from, but the magical creature had a name, and his name was Ricodimous.
Ricodimous had a face like a mouse, eyes cunning and dark, and a shell by which he rolled himself into, in case the world got too much, too loud.
One day, Ricodimous was puttering through the market when he heard the most wistful sigh he had ever heard in his entire life. He looked about, questioning, but saw nothing until he rolled back onto his shell and gazed up, up high until he could see a window over the market square, where the saddest and loneliest princess of all sat on her window seat.
"Hello Princess!" He called. And even though the distance between them was great, Ricodimous was a magical creature, and the Princess heard him perfectly.
She gazed down at the wondrous little creature Ricodimous was, and sighed again.
"Hello Ser," she greeted politely. "You should roll along, for I am not of the finest stock for company."
Ricodimous tilted his head.
"You look to me to be the finest stock of anything," he replied. "Why do you believe not?"
The princess simply shrugged.
Ricodimous pondered for a moment. As a magical creature, his guesses on the ailment of princesses were often correct.
"Your heart is aching," he declared. "But you are too shy to say it."
The princess raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You assume much, Ser."
"I assume enough. Pray, would you come down from your tower, and we shall play a game."
The princess could not deny that she had longed to play a game for a time, even if it was with a mouse like creature.
For the first time in years, the Princess dressed herself in her finest silks, and exited her tower with a flourish. Dressed in deep blues and greens, she at last came down to the marketplace and met Ricodimous by the gardens entrance.
The game they played my lord, is one similar to Croquet. I will admit my lord, that this is a game I myself have never played, so you must use your imagination with my storytelling, and simply believe that while you know the rules, so do I.
And so the Princess and Ricodimous played their game, over the course of which the Princess found herself more and more joyous. She indulged in a full commitment of the sport, soiling her finest clothes all so she could kneel in the mud and get a better angle.
Even more scandalously, the Princess was referred to by her royal title less and less, which tends to happen when one is losing a game so terribly he must roll up into his shell and rock back and forth from frustration. So over the day the Princess was called more and more by her name, Ashley, and Ricodimous was simply called Ric.
But the sun was soon to set, and all stories, no matter how brief must end.
At the end of their game there was only one true winner, and Ashley wiped her royal brow and shoot Rics paw, smiling in victory. The magical creature was not disappointed, for he promised to never give up, and that he would return the next day for a rematch.
Princess Ashley was surprised.
"You mean that you'll come back?" She asked, and she realized how excited she was at the prospect.
"Of course I will!" Ric replied. "I would never run around and desert you."
And with that, Ric rolled away.
I'm hacking up blood on my deathbed and you do THIS to me
A reminder to everyone about this story, and if any of you are still interested, you should know that I actually was inspired by this wonderful artwork by my friend @shame-on-me2
āfujoshis are harmful to gay menā not this gay man.
on twitter this got a bunch of responses like āwow even the evil fujoshis? the homophobic yet hypocritically fetishistic ones? what if the fujoshi is racist?ā and like well no obviously not in that case.
āshoutout to everybody from new jersey!ā āeven the new jersey serial killersā¦?ā

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if i made a video game where you get to pick the gender of the player character i'd make both the options be nonbinary and you can either have they/them or it/its pronouns. those are your only options
cats always step precisely on your most sensitive areas when theyre crawling on you lovingly for cuddles. bladder dick ovaries boobs stomach bruise it doesnt matter. they have homing devices on their paws for the exact area youāre most tender at the moment and they put their full weight into that step. and sometimes they might keep their stance midstride so theyre just standing there forever forcing you to endure the pain. because they are simply too cute to get mad at
behold my ugly
I painted your ugly

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Could you please tag your invisible disability pride flag posts with eyestrain? I absolutely love the symbolism behind it but it gives me a migrane everytime i see it
Also have you considered making a more screen friendly version that isnt so contrasting? Like using a very dark grey instead of pitch black? I understand the contrast is part of the symbolism but as it is now its inaccessible to a lot of us with invisible disabilities
thank you for the feedback! gosh, I am so sorry- I made it high contrast to be accessible (in consultation with my partially blind friend) but if it's causing pain for some then I will absolutely reduce the contrast and make an alternative: how about this? to be honest the unicorn is the icon- you can put it on whatever bg makes you happiest!
here is a clear png with just the unicorn so you can put it on a background that best suits you!
hey as it is disability pride one time I made this unicorn icon as a representation of invisible disabilities- here's a post about all the what and whys about it and it turned back up on my dash today so, if you folks would like to use it here you go! it's designed so that you can add it to other flags however you would like, so you can use your pride flag of choice as a background if you want to!
Claudette Colbert dressed as Pierrot the Clown, 1930s
Thank you for sending this in @ahatfullofwords !
I really donāt want to open this can of worms because Tumblr hath no fury like people called out on their political performativeness but it is literally driving me up the wall to watch people react to Serkisā ākeep Tolkien whiteā commentary by insisting twice as hard that Tolkien would descend down to earth and dropkick the entire Republican party to hell or whatever, just because they want to ensure that a piece of media they enjoy isnāt seen as being morally impure. Case in point: I have seen at least five instances of Tolkienās āI hate apartheidā valedictorian address being used as a ācounterā to Serkis being racist, including by actual news outlets.
Except itās only ever the āI hate apartheidā line thatās shared, and not the actual quote in its full context. Because here it is:
If we consider what Merton College and what the Oxford School of English owes to the Antipodes, to the Southern Hemisphere, especially to scholars born in Australia and New Zealand, it may well be felt that it is only just that one of them should now ascend an Oxford chair of English. Indeed it may be thought that justice has been delayed since 1925. There are of course other lands under the Southern Cross. I was born in one; though I do not claim to be the most learned of those who have come hither from the far end of the Dark Continent. But I have the hatred of apartheid in my bones; and most of all I detest the segregation or separation of Language and Literature. I do not care which of them you think White.
Which is to say. This isnāt exactly the antiracist quote of the century, to say the least. This is a white South Africa born man and a white Australian shaking hands and going āomg we relateā and expressing what is a very, very mild āsegregation is not greatā opinion in order to convey his thoughts on an academic subject, ie the confluence of language and literature. Using race to make a point about his own subject of interest, in his own interest, which is, amusingly enough, what a lot of ostensibly well meaning progressive seem to be doing.
I also think that some of the general surprise around āwhat do you mean large swathes of the Tolkien fandom are incredibly conservative!?ā in lib/left Tolkien fandom is the result of a tendency in said parts of the fandom to transpose oneās own progressiveness onto Tolkien and turn a blind eye to things like, say, the Shire being a very specifically mid-century British racist construct that is very, very clear in its politics, often going so far as to insist itās anarchist or an ideal society or whatever the fuck⦠and then getting really Pikachu-meme ābut theyāre misreading itā every single time a conservative explains exactly what it is about the legendarium that they really love, and get surprised when someone uses the Shire being a racist construct to do more racism. It is 2026 let us do away with āI donāt see colourā interpretations of media, I beg. Nobody is cancelling you for enjoying a book that is not kind to race. Most of the books I love are not kind to race.

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one of the best parts of making up increasingly wild and specific aus with a friend is sending them posts like "this is sooo blorbo in torture chamber au number 15" and they reply back like "YESSS btw have i told you about my latest idea for how to torture them even more" and you get to enjoy a little snack and kick your feet with glee
hi, my cat passed yesterday. she was 21 and i knew her p much all my life. may i see some wolf pictures to help cheer me up?
I'm so sorry! That's really hard, but at least you know she was well-loved her whole life.
Here is some Wolf.