Woof Woof Bow Wow

Those are cow sounds right

[cowdogpaws]

You see it’s very simple, I am a dog And my fursona is a cow but a cow that used to be a dog. Not that the character was originally a dog and was then redesigned as a cow but that was designed as a cow first and in universe was originally a dog that got turned into a cow.

Very simple.

[jisuto]

[plasticstomach]

[prunsel]

what really wrenches my duodenum is that undertale was made with the intent of merely being a programming/gamedev exercise before toby made the game he Actually wanted to make, which was deltarune. and undertale ended up becoming a top-10 most influential indie game of all time. the fact that act 5 comes out so soon is making me insane with anticipation and there's still 2 more parts after that

[edenemy-art]

yeah this is a good game

[kabber]

[excitementshewrote]

[transmascmarypoppins]

why is this post completely broken in every way imaginable

[cecilsrandomeverything]

Broken notes… deactivated account… removed image….

Finally, we have them all.

[spacefinch]

In addition: OP’s name is just… gone. No “[insert username]-deactivated[insert a bunch of numbers]” as is the standard for deactivated blogs.

Just the world “deactivated.” Look upon their post, ye mighty, and despair.

[chatblancofficial]

It’ll be almost impossible to find this post unless it wanders across your dash.

[huewrite]

It wandered across mine. I shall help it travel forward.

[gossamermouse]

this is not a place of honor

[jackviator]

[dinosaurana]

Oh hey post of Ozymandius, good to see you again standing on your feet in a desert where no one remembers you

[killadelphia]

[beardedmrbean]

[nathanielbuildsatesseract]

This is what having auditory processing issues is like.

[astral-alignment]

drawing for @tlemo !

[questionably-cryptid]

we regret to inform everyone that the world’s most microwaveable hamster has left us for the arms of the lord

[sometiktoksarevalid]

[kavdragun]

Summer Dragonite

Dragonite lady! She cannot wait for the summer time

[adonischildsupportcase]

[letterful]

In Orwell’s essay “A Hanging,” the writer watches the condemned man, walking toward the gallows, swerve to avoid a puddle. For Orwell, this represents precisely what he calls the “mystery” of the life that is about to be taken: when there is no good reason for it, the condemned man is still thinking about keeping his shoes clean. It is an “irrelevant” act (and a marvelous bit of noticing on Orwell’s part). Now suppose this were not an essay but a piece of fiction. And indeed there has been a fair amount of speculation about the proportion of fact to fiction in such essays of Orwell’s. 

The avoidance of the puddle would be precisely the kind of superb detail that, say, Tolstoy might flourish; War and Peace has an execution scene very close in spirit to Orwell’s essay, and it may well be that Orwell basically cribbed the detail from Tolstoy. In War and Peace, Pierre witnesses a man being executed by the French, and notices that, just before death, the man adjusts the blindfold at the back of his head, because it is uncomfortably tight. The avoidance of the puddle, the fiddling with the blindfold—these are what might be called irrelevant or superfluous details. They are not explicable; in fiction, they exist to denote precisely the inexplicable. This is one of the “effects” of realism, of “realistic” style. 

But Orwell’s essay, assuming it records an actual occurrence, shows us that such fictional effects are not merely conventionally irrelevant, or formally arbitrary, but have something to tell us about the irrelevance of reality itself (…) There was no logical reason for the condemned man to avoid the puddle. It was pure remembered habit. Life, then, will always contain an inevitable surplus, a margin of the gratuitous, a realm in which there is always more than we need: more things, more impressions, more memories, more habits, more words, more happiness, more unhappiness. 

— JAMES WOOD, from How Fiction Works.

[letterful]

What exactly do these irrational standards mean? They mean the supremacy of the detail over the general, of the part that is more alive than the whole, of the little thing which a man observes and greets with a friendly nod of the spirit while the crowd around him is being driven by some common impulse to some common goal. I take my hat off to the hero who dashes into a burning house and saves his neighbor’s child; but I shake his hand if he has risked squandering a precious five seconds to find and save, together with the child, its favorite toy. I remember a cartoon depicting a chimney sweep falling from the roof of a tall building and noticing on the way that a sign-board had one word spelled wrong, and wondering in his headlong flight why nobody had thought of correcting it. In a sense, we all are crashing to our death from the top story of our birth to the flat stones of the churchyard and wondering with an immortal Alice in Wonderland at the patterns of the passing wall. This capacity to wonder at trifles — no matter the imminent peril — these asides of the spirit, these footnotes in the volume of life are the highest forms of consciousness, and it is in this childishly speculative state of mind, so different from commonsense and its logic, that we know the world to be good.

— VLADIMIR NABOKOV, from Lectures on Literature.

[fatfurfoof]

dressed