neither “that’s not canon” nor “fuck canon we made this all up” but a secret third thing (canon shouldn’t be taken as gospel but is useful as a reference point for building upon and recontextualizing characters and details. if you worship the source material as unchangeable then fandom in general probably isn’t for you. if you have complete disdain for the source material you would probably enjoy yourself more in a different fandom)

Just finished hamlet & had to share THIS

btw this is literally what goes down. it’s great. 

You just know the ye olde peasants went NUTS at that last part

in my experience nobody stops having a favorite animal when they grow up but people DO stop asking. well now i'm asking. what's everyone's favorite animal mine is the noble manatee

Reminding my mutuals that I would rub their head and tell them that they are doing a good job

Pssst

Hey, are you an artist or writer with WIPs?

Come here... I got a secret for you pssst come ‘ere

waiting in deep suspense

Psst you ready here comes the secret

Here it comes

I am also very curious about this secret

Your time spent enjoying the creative process is infinitely more valuable that any final project you create. So stop putting yourself down for never finishing or posting those WIPs because every moment you spent creating something you loved is a moment not wasted. Your progress and talent is measured by your passion not your number of posts.

This post went from 3k to 7k overnight and that just goes to show how many of you need to hear this so make sure you don’t ever forget it

Crested Butte, Colorado

austinpedersen__

having an undiagnosed illness is like the check engine light being on all the time in your car, but when you take it to the mechanic, they announce happily that all the tests came back fine! and you just stare at the check engine light with dread.

And when you finally find the right dr who can give you a diagnosis,

so often it ends up "so you're telling me they did all these tests, but didn't even notice the engine doesn't have oil"

Let's have the conversation about UBI.

Let the actual data and facts end the bad faith arguments.

I was a participant of the now cancelled UBI pilot in Ontario Canada. I was happier, safer, was able to move and work at better jobs.

And oops there it is. Better jobs.

Better jobs

It's a class barrier. They need a poverty class to function

#people being able to leave jobs that maltreat them is a threat to capitalism

Being able to force every last job in existence to make itself sufficiently respectful, acceptable, and worthwhile to the worker that someone will choose to do it when NOT goaded by the threat of starvation is probably both the greatest positive effect UBI would accomplish AND the real reason it faces so much opposition.

#people being able to leave jobs that maltreat them is a threat to capitalism

Mountains and wildflowers

ryandyar

Caramelldansen turns 20 this year and frankly I am not prepared for that.

So it’s settled? When November 2 rolls around, we’re all laying facedown and blasting Caramelldansen?

no we’re gonna put our big boy pants on and do the goddamn caramelldansen dance for once in our lives

Well I know what I’ll have to reblog on the 2nd

More dual citizenship! Regular visits to fairyland or wherever!

Decrease the kraken!

Here's my embroidered/painted/knitted octopus that's going on the back of the jeans jacket I'm sewing. The original embroidery pattern is by Hook Line Tinker, I just added some extra knitting to the pattern.

By now I've finished all the embroidery for the jacket and started sewing it together! It's all sea-themed

Once a little boy went to school. One morning The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. He liked to make all kinds; Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, Trains and boats; And he took out his box of crayons And began to draw.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make flowers.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make beautiful ones With his pink and orange and blue crayons. But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And it was red, with a green stem. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at his teacher’s flower Then he looked at his own flower. He liked his flower better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just turned his paper over, And made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red, with a green stem.

On another day The teacher said: “Today we are going to make something with clay.” “Good!” thought the little boy; He liked clay. He could make all kinds of things with clay: Snakes and snowmen, Elephants and mice, Cars and trucks And he began to pull and pinch His ball of clay.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make a dish.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make dishes. And he began to make some That were all shapes and sizes.

But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And she showed everyone how to make One deep dish. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish; Then he looked at his own. He liked his better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just rolled his clay into a big ball again And made a dish like the teacher’s. It was a deep dish.

And pretty soon The little boy learned to wait, And to watch And to make things just like the teacher. And pretty soon He didn’t make things of his own anymore.

Then it happened That the little boy and his family Moved to another house, In another city, And the little boy Had to go to another school.

The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. And he waited for the teacher To tell what to do. But the teacher didn’t say anything. She just walked around the room.

When she came to the little boy She asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?” “Yes,” said the little boy. “What are we going to make?” “I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher. “How shall I make it?” asked the little boy. “Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher. “And any color?” asked the little boy. “Any color,” said the teacher. And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.

~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

…

I hate that I hesitated to reblog this just because I expect people to think it’s pretentious or melodramatic when it’s seriously real as fuck and I’ve witnessed it

Fuck man

My mom likes to refrence a story she read

About a guy who escaped North Korea

He said living there was like living in a pot

And he grew up there, so he grew into the shape of the pot

But once he was out

And the pot was gone

He was still in the shape of the pot

And he had to work really hard to grow outside that shape

I think its the same with alot of things

Art, gender presentation, decoration prefrences, food, hobbies

You forget what made you happy in favor of what kept you alive.

You forget what made

you happy in favor of

what kept you alive.

Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.

IMPORTANT

ALL OF THE THIS

Black coffee enjoyers fighting the longest war known to man

“I had it worse and I was just fine!”

🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

Sometimes you gotta pick a cat up just to set them back down somewhere nearby. Remind them who calls the shots in your house. Oh you thought you were lying on the floor? Dead wrong fool you're standing on the couch cushion now staring up at me waiting for an explanation. You'll never get it. I'm gone. I'm walking away. I'm already in the next room before you can so much as mutter a confused "meow." later son. you're reexamining your place in the universe all by yourself. Consider my power in a empty living room