every time i remember that photo of the little inuk girl with her puppy i engage in inconsolable hysterics
this is it. this is the photo of all time
Comfy even
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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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@ignisleo-ill
every time i remember that photo of the little inuk girl with her puppy i engage in inconsolable hysterics
this is it. this is the photo of all time
Comfy even
Sophie Thatcher Companion you mean everything to me
@goblinnobraincell looks it's your oc I drew years and years ago, ain't she a stunner
this messed up vintage cat sewing pattern has tormented me since i saw it & like some other folks have done in that post - i tried my hand at tweaking the pattern to resemble the illustration (and my personal tastes) a little more. i've ended up with this, which i have only tested at a small scale and not this final version exactly (where i have done such things as further widening the cheeks and finalizing the leg shapes.) i bestow it upon you nice folks now 👐
go forth and make weird little beanbag kittens! pls show me if you do!
woah this got big!! and after another try i have another untested tweak for yall. this should help the weird pinchy side seams out. yey
My first attempt! I made the pattern a bit smaller as I wanted it to be able to fit in a pocket, but then (accidentally but perhaps unavoidably) sewed it with a wider seam allowance than the resized pattern indicated, so the face is proportionally a bit too big and I lost some detail in the ear shape. I'm pleased with it though! It was fun to make something and to do some handsewing.
SOO CUTE AND TINIE 😭
I tried this pattern a while back to try out some minky and I get no points for making the pattern well but looook at my boyyy
His name is Tofu. Thank you for sharing the pattern I will love him forever
i like to pretend i already died and asked god to send me back to earth so i can swim in lakes again and see mountains and get my heart broken and love my friends and cry so hard in the bathroom and go grocery shopping 1,000 more times. and that i promised i would never forget the miracle of being here
Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life, Amy Krouse Rosenthal
I truly enjoy how much Animorphs is like “here are our young heroes, each with a distinctive trope to fill in the group!” And then it makes you watch how the pressure of each person’s role grinds them to dust. And also they have homework.
#IM SORRY THEY DO HOME FUCKING WORK IN ANIMORPHS??????
Yeah they're students. If they don't keep their grades up or if they miss too many classes (or miss classes at suspicious times) then they risk drawing the attention of the faculty and/or their parents, some of whom are the enemy and some of whom can just make future espionage a whole lot harder. There are multiple missions where they're like "okay, this is incredibly time sensitive but it'll take a full day or longer so it has to wait for the weekend and we'll have to all lie to our parents about sleeping over at each others' houses. It's gonna have to be done at the last minute because we've gotta go to class. Also, remember to get that English paper finished, we can NOT afford to have you grounded right now."
They also get disembowelled and/or eaten a lot
#animorphs#its actually devastating i bever got into these#they wouldve been a million times more up my alley wtf was i reading harry potter for
It's not too late. You can still read them.
These have been out of print for an age, and the authors have given their blessings to share the PDFs. Here's everything, including companion/side books and the non-canon Alternamorphs books, in reading order:
All of the Animorphs books by K. A. Applegate, as well as the other books set in that universe. I got them here. I am not the one who collec
#wasn't there also that one that was like permanently stuck
Tobias yeah. He's a hawk for basically the whole series (spoilers I guess).
“If I had time travel I’d kill Hitler” “If I had time travel I’d stop my favourite politician getting assassinated” you’re all thinking way too small. If I had time travel I’d stop Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin from dying on the moon due to Soviet sabotage, kicking off the Great Nuclear War and devastating half of the planet.
Good Job.
#this post gets me every time
It’s from two days ago fam how many times could there have been
do you think no one else has time travel
Happy one month anniversary to this post that has not allowed me a single day of fucking peace since I made it.
#surprise reblog!!
STOP IT’S BEEN MONTHS. MONTHS!
YOU CAN STOP.
wow if only you had a time machine
Honestly having reached a billion notes I think it’s safe to say that in the Year of our lord 2041, this is the most popular tumblr post out there.
I’m killing your parents before you’re born
Still here, why’d you hesitate @derinthescarletpescatarian
Your mum’s ability to hold up under active gunfire was really hot. I’m your dad now.
Isn’t that the plot of Terminator
Where do you think the plot for Terminator came from?
This is such a classic trainwreck post that has the vibes of a 2014 screenshot posted to Pinterest and then the last addition is just last Tuesday I can’t even
Imagine how I feel
POST, LIVE FOREVER!!!!!!
It doesn’t have to
Yes it does.
or at least until 2041!
why is it on my dash again in 2026
there's a lot of talk about reading comprehension and one thing i think is the biggest barrier to people on this site getting better at it is simply... rushing. rushing to share something you haven't understood, rushing to have an opinion without taking the time to think about it, rushing to declare that you don't understand something
take these tags, on somebody else's post (condolences pip)
the thing is. this is what i would call an inside thought. nobody would have known you didn't get it if you didn't tell them that. if you recognised that it was important but didn't have the headspace to process it, you can reblog without commentary for others, or to come back to later. or you can save it somewhere and wait until you DO have the capacity to read it over a few more times, ponder it, consider what it might mean, figure out how to understand it, and THEN reblog it
but no. rushing to reblog while it is still opaque. rushing to admit to ignorance rather than spend the time to achieve understanding. perhaps hoping that somebody will break it down for you more simply, though to my mind it was quite simply phrased in the first place. never stopping to take the time first
comprehension is not always instant! sometimes it takes a bit of time for something to percolate after you read it; sometimes you need to read it a few times; sometimes you realise you don't have the context for it and either go and get the context or accept that it's not for you right now
please just simply slow down. you don't always have to respond to everything within a second or two. it is okay if it is not an instantaneous understanding. we all need to get more comfortable with thinking more slowly and more deeply and more carefully, and not letting our instant split second responses drive us all the time, because they are a barrier to genuine reflection
Don’t mind me, something came over me ✨
(Remember to be up to date on your vaccines)
Saltwater mermaid and freshwater mermaid fall in love. Once a year, when the saltwater mermaid's migration brings them together, they meet in the estuary and fall in love all over again
Every spring she becomes despondent and agitated. We poke fun at her, but we make sure she knows it comes from a place of love. The younglings have even started taking turns out near the edge of the sea, listening for the distant song of the pod of the sea clan.
When the song does come (it is hauntingly beautiful, unlike any of our own songs), the pod is still many days away, but there are many preparations to make. We can't say we fully understand, but the river clan loves a party and this is as good an opportunity as any.
The youth collect crabs and clams from the marshes. The pod must think it so quaint, our simple local fare, but they always partake in the feast with great zeal, bringing their own contribution of squid and the fast muscular fish that live so far away beyond our shores.
The crones tut over the bride-to-be as they weave her wedding veil from the finest strands of river grass (never mind that the bride has been wed to her maiden from the sea every spring for going on twelve years now).
We all collect shells and arrange them around her wedding bower. She chooses the finest of them for her bridal exchange (a point of pride for the winning collector who may brag about it long into the winter).
When the day finally comes, the pod gathers out in the sea, cavorting in the waves and singing their strange songs. Their songs and ways are still strage to us, and our songs must be equally strange to them, but we reply in kind. We sing our wedding songs with inflections borrowed from their dialects and they do the same.
We wait at the mouth of the river and send forth the bride, bedecked in her veil and strings of river pearls and snail shell, radiant and beautiful as the first time they were wed.
The sea clan sends their own bride into the brackish. They are larger than us, fat and muscular, built for life in the open water. The daughter of the sea is something fierce to behold, scarred and powerful, but she always looks upon our daughter with the tenderest gaze.
The two meet alone while we watch from the edges of our waters. They exchange necklaces. Ours a single shell, theirs hundreds of beads, one for each day apart: abalone and shark teeth and red coral and all manner of thing from every corner of the world.
We take turns calling the words, ours and theirs, two ceremonies syncretized into something new and beautiful and unique. And then, vows renewed, river clan and sea clan become one. We are one family until moon and tide signal them to move on in their migration until the next spring.
We meet in the estuary, neither side fully comfortable in the halfway salinity, but we love our daughters, and they love each other. We exchange food and stories and music, our two clans, and we celebrate long into the night.
At some point, the two brides slip away, and well… what they get up to is their own business.
Behold: Calvin's dad's villain origin story
If we wanted to engage in nuance (lol, lmao) on the "are audiobooks reading" debate, we really do need to bring literacy, and especially blind literacy, into the conversation.
Because, yes, listening to a story and reading a story use mostly the same parts of the brain. Yes, listening to the audiobook counts as "having read" a book. Yes, oral storytelling has a long, glorious tradition and many cultures maintained their histories through oral history or oral + art history, having never developed a true written language, and their oral stories and histories are just as valid and rich as written literature.
We still can't call listening in the absence of reading "literacy."
The term literacy needs to stay restricted to the written word, to the ability to access and engage with written texts, because we need to be able to talk about illiteracy. We need to be able to identify when a society is failing to teach children to read, and if we start saying that listening to stories is literacy, we lose the ability to describe those systemic failures.
Blind folks have been knee-deep in this debate for a long time. Schools struggle to provide resources to teach students Braille and enforcing the teaching of Braille to low-vision and blind children is a constant uphill battle. A school tried to argue that one girl didn't need to learn Braille because she could read 96-point font. Go check what that is. The new prevalence of audiobooks and TTS is a huge threat to Braille literacy because it provides institutions with another excuse to not provide Braille education or Braille texts.
That matters. Braille-literate blind and low-vision people have a 90% employment rate. For those who don't know Braille, it's 30%. Braille literacy is linked to higher academic success in all fields.
Moving outside the world of Braille, literacy of any kind matters. Being able to read text has a massive impact on a person's ability to access information, education, and employment. Being able to talk about the inability to read text matters, because that's how we're able to hold systems accountable.
So, yes, audiobooks should count as reading. But, no, they should not count as literacy.
Finally, a good fucking take.
A certain anime has a chokehold on me so! Brushbuddy upon ye 🫵🫵
this too shall pass but the fuck was that for
The communists want to take away YOUR MOLD
Did they not have to fix the mould before
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
DON'T ASK YOURSELF "AM I A GOOD PERSON?" ASK YOURSELF "IS WHAT I AM DOING GOOD?" OR EVEN! "WHAT'S A GOOD THING I CAN DO RIGHT NOW?"
DON'T WORRY ABOUT JUDGING AND SORTING YOURSELF! JUST MAKE YOUR BEST CHOICES!!
Ok but pls actually do this people. There is no such thing as a good person. Stop trying to be one and starting trying to do good instead