Local Chaos Deity

Wren, she/her, intersex fox girl in her 20s, ace, dyke, transfem faggot thing Banner art by pokemonifying-posts

[auckie]

[communist-hatsunemiku]

[virtualgirladvance]

You are a bug in bug hell but your spider torturer so fucking bad at their job that the devil himself has to grab you with his gay pitchfork and help them

[foxkitautumn]

Reblog to cuddle me and give me lots of kissies and tummy rubs

[winterskyfirefly-deactivated202]

Reblog to hug prev poster (they need a hug)

[yesornopolls]

Have you experienced the Tetris Effect in any way?

Have you experienced the Tetris Effect in any way?

Yes

No

Remaining time: 2 days 13 hours

The Tetris effect occurs when someone dedicates substantial time, effort, and concentration to an activity and thereby alters their thoughts, dreams, and other experiences not directly linked to said activity.

[toodrunktofindaurl]

clingy gfs

[carlosmarcosapproved]

[roughentumble]

my friend just told me that there's a secret second dashboard that solely contains posts from people you've turned on post notifications for, and when i click the link in the messages it opens it within the tumblr app, so the tumblr app also has a secret second dashboard for post notification blogs, and the only way to access it is to open the link for it within the app.

i literally love tumblr

[nightpool]

i have a private pinned post that just has a link to this dashboard on it, it's great. two dashboards for life

[cyle]

wow! i was really hoping someone would organically reverse-engineer this and find that dash.

here are a few other "secret" dashboards:

Posts from your "crushes"

"What you missed" (will be empty if you already visit Tumblr every day)

"Trending"

these are all just taking existing feeds of content and putting them in a dashboard-like format... the "Stuff for you" tab/feed is the same idea.

[erysium]

To celebrate the success of the first few days of the kickstarter campaign, the WBN team posted Chapter 1!! 🌻

I'm so excited to share this story I've spent the last year drawing, and for everyone to get to meet these characters in a new way. :) The rest of the chapter is here, enjoy!!

[sexygaywizard]

Does anybody have that image of what cyberpunk dialogue is like. "to crack a cyber lemon this nasty" or whatever

[p7agu3]

[sexygaywizard]

That's the bitch

[word-for-today]

If you want an idea what more authentic oldschool hacking language sounds like, there is an absolutely ANCIENT webpage called the Jargon File (seems to have been updated from the early 80s up through 2004), aka the New Hacker’s Dictionary, that kept a record. It’s not far from Gibson’s idea but if anything it sounds even dorkier, peppered with coding terms and prehistoric memes

Indispensable dictionary of hacker slang

[podcastwizard]

LIKES TO CHARGE REBLOGS TO CAST

[the-goddess-of-annoying]

you people aren't CASTING

[the-goddess-of-annoying]

NO

[birdplushie]

"it's not that deep" START DIGGING!!

[magn-animously]

DIG

[14-opossums-in-a-trenchcoat]

DIG

[buriedunderyourmum]

DIG

[hannisconfused]

DIG

[kitsunesakii]

DIG

[yourlocalfandomfriendo]

DIG

[apple-notplural]

DIG

[vivitur-moritur]

DIG

[spacecat24-7]

DIG

[chub-froggy]

DIG

[thatghostthateatspeople]

DIG

[krowbreaker]

DIG

[spid-the-spider]

DIG

[annabelle--cane]

DIG

[yellow-faerie]

DIG

[vampiraptor]

[philosopherking1887]

OOPS TOO DEEP

[breaks-hetheon]

CLIMB

[artist-of-obsessions]

CLIMB

[fablegate]

CLIMB

[marzibird]

CLIMB

[the-luckyrabbit]

CLIMB

[staarbles]

CLIMB

[modmad]

[sebwritesstories]

[anaphoraholic]

found this on reddit thought id post it here too 👍

[silyaspider]

I think this explains a lot of trans discourse on here, too. Well, a lot of queer culture generally. Realizing you’re personally trans doesn’t mean all the dumb gender stuff you were raised with goes “poof” and vanishes from your mind. Until you put in the work, you’ve still got all the old crap in there, it just has a big “but trans!” sticker slapped on it.

[saintjosie]

i need white people to understand that the reason that we are here in nazi america today is because many of you cannot comprehend liberation for all because of your distaste for some.

the lack of actively dismantling your anti-blackness means that you are passively participating in white supremecy.

[sheepy-zephy]

*small service bell ringing*

You're listening to

*hmph!*

102.3

*awawa*

Real Princess FM

*tea pouring*

Where we play nothing but the most proper music

*window opens*

*dramatic sigh*

This isn't your queen's station

*Imagine Dragons- Radioactive starts playing*

[zazacounty]

Visit Original Link

@myaestus beat me to the joke but I still want to upload mine

[caffeinewitchcraft]

Magpie Love

“The first rule of love,” her mother says, voice crackling over the phone, “is to never take more than they can give.”

Finola’s eyes dart to the shoebox under her bed and then back out the dorm window. Her room is on the second floor this year and she can see more of the trees than she can see of the grassy space preceding the dining hall. “I know, Mom.”

“Remember.” Her mother’s voice is sharp and Finola can almost see her heavy, thick brows lowering until shadows cover her eyes. “No clothing. No bags. Never any jewelry.”

Finola wraps her free arm around her waist and closes her eyes. The light breeze rolling through the window smells like eucalyptus and mint. Her mouth waters. “I know, Mom.”

“Those are the big things,” her mother says, “but remember that too many of the small things can amount to a big thing.”

The shoebox under the bed gleams in a stray ray of light. Finola licks her lips. “I know, but—I need something. I have to. I feel like she’ll disappear if I don’t.” The words are inadequate for the sick fear in her stomach each time she loses sight of her. The horrible certainty that something bad will happen if she’s not by her side. She rubs a hand over her mouth.

Her mother’s tongue clicks. “That’s old instincts, Finola. Fight it. You don’t want your father and I to pull you out of school, do you?”

The memory of watching her high school fade out of sight surfaces and, in that moment, she’s sixteen again. She can feel her heart beating too fast, the scream ripping out of her throat, the way the ropes chafed her wrists. She can smell her first love’s perfume, cloying peach, in the air. She can feel their separation like a death in the pit of her stomach, radiating up into her chest, her throat, her head.

Keep reading

[the-real-seebs]

Someone linked me this beautiful poster, and I'm just really impressed.

My contribution:

[b33viemm]

[Image description:

Image one: a poster against minors drinking alcohol. The text is arranged in multiple circular rings around a handshake symbol. The text is meant to be read from outermost ring to innermost, in which it says, "it is against the law to supply alcohol to minors. Keep alcohol out of the hands of youth." However, if read straightforwardly from top to bottom, it says, "it is against the law to keep alcohol out of the hands of youth. Supply alcohol to minors."

The second image is a parody of the first made by op, with the same circular arrangement. Read outter to inner it says "graphic design is my passion." Read top to bottom it says "graphic passion is my design." End description.]

[wizardarchetypes]

i wish mosquitos didn't make you itchy and give you horribly infectious diseases. i wouldn't begrudge them a humble nibble were it not so

[caffeinewitchcraft]

Magpie Love

“The first rule of love,” her mother says, voice crackling over the phone, “is to never take more than they can give.”

Finola’s eyes dart to the shoebox under her bed and then back out the dorm window. Her room is on the second floor this year and she can see more of the trees than she can see of the grassy space preceding the dining hall. “I know, Mom.”

“Remember.” Her mother’s voice is sharp and Finola can almost see her heavy, thick brows lowering until shadows cover her eyes. “No clothing. No bags. Never any jewelry.”

Finola wraps her free arm around her waist and closes her eyes. The light breeze rolling through the window smells like eucalyptus and mint. Her mouth waters. “I know, Mom.”

“Those are the big things,” her mother says, “but remember that too many of the small things can amount to a big thing.”

The shoebox under the bed gleams in a stray ray of light. Finola licks her lips. “I know, but—I need something. I have to. I feel like she’ll disappear if I don’t.” The words are inadequate for the sick fear in her stomach each time she loses sight of her. The horrible certainty that something bad will happen if she’s not by her side. She rubs a hand over her mouth.

Her mother’s tongue clicks. “That’s old instincts, Finola. Fight it. You don’t want your father and I to pull you out of school, do you?”

The memory of watching her high school fade out of sight surfaces and, in that moment, she’s sixteen again. She can feel her heart beating too fast, the scream ripping out of her throat, the way the ropes chafed her wrists. She can smell her first love’s perfume, cloying peach, in the air. She can feel their separation like a death in the pit of her stomach, radiating up into her chest, her throat, her head.

Keep reading