What a gorgeous species. I love the starlike effect from those lighter reflective scales.
- Don’t be angry at yourself when anxiety/depression flares up. It isn’t your fault and no one blames you and if they do they’re pieces of shit.
- Don’t orbit around your perceived value so much. You’re not the sum total of what you produce.
- Don’t let yourself wonder why people love you. That’s not how it works. There are not stark, individual reasons that a person can enumerate about why they love you. It’s the entire, unique combination of what and who you are.
The Faerie Queene - 2013 - Photoshop
See it on Deviant Art!
…Unlike some fairy folk, she is not young and lithe, a wisp of a spirit passing through the ether… but, on the contrary, she is shrewd, powerful, and kind, possessing a grace and elegance that never fades… and she has far more interesting stories to tell, if you care to listen.
I’ve been working on this digital painting for the past couple of weeks. I thought it might be time to share it with the world. I hope you like!
Edit: Thank you for all the faves and reblogs! When I originally posted this image, I had no idea how popular it would become. (Most of my blogs do not receive much attention.) This image was something of a personal exercise, and there were still details I was hammering out. My apologies! For the most recent iteration: See it on Deviant Art!
Nicki Minaj shining a light on the differences on acceptable sexuality from white women and black women.
While it has a good deal to do with color, it also has to do with the fact of how her sexuality is used.
The women above her could arguably be said to be catering to the sexual needs/wants/fantasies of men (Sports Illustrated is ESPECIALLY known for catering to a male gaze.) While Nicki Minaj has continuously used her sexuality to empower herself. Her sexuality isn’t for men, it’s for her own self. And THAT is a huge problem. Sexuality that isn’t designed for male consumption is deemed unacceptable and threatening. She is powerful, demanding, uncompromising, and men are weak, so that scares them.
And it’s also because she’s of Indian/Black background, no doubt about it. It’s not just racist, it’s also sexist.
(Source: , via siriciryel)
there’s no such thing as being fake queer or fake trans because these things are defined wholly by self-identification and behavior. if you want to be queer or trans but aren’t sure if you’re real enough, congratulations, you’re already there. the big secret is that almost everyone is afraid of being fake. this is because there is a very powerful impetus from the rest of the world that wants you to believe that you are not fundamentally queer/trans and that therefore you should forego these things and just be “normal”. this is of course a miserable way to exist and embracing agency in being queer or trans is one of the most fulfilling things you can do
Hermy doesn’t need your stinkin’ femism.
Confused Cats Against Feminism is a project of We Hunted the Mammoth:The New Misogyny, tracked and mocked.
people say they dont like suzanne anymore because she was literally being manipulated into bad behavior by all of her weaknesses, one being her desperate need for love and respect that no one in the litch gives her
but morello is revealed to be a stalker and a harasser on top of being a racist and people are like PROTECT LORNA!!
Yes, of course I’ve heard what the superstitious locals say: “Stay out of the mountains! There’s no shelter on those harsh peaks, and every last combe and glen is infested with killer spiders!”. They say there’s no way to safely cross that mountain range - anyone trying to rest high up on the peaks will die of exposure, lashed by cruel icy winds. Better that, though, than to risk seeking shelter in the forested vales.
The Crawling Death, they call it. Great glossy black eight-legged fiends, some small enough to creep between the rings of your maille, some large as a splayed hand and quick as a cat, and some - so they say - the size of dogs. Or swine. Or cart-horses. The tales have been exaggerated in the telling, of course, since hardly anyone dares venture far into the gullies and ravines that lace between the majestic peaks (most certainly not at night, when the Crawling Death make their appearance, silent as a shadow).
Even if they’re not quite as large as people say, they’re certainly no less deadly. The king’s physicians, who had the unenviable task of tending to the survivors of the last failed expedition, wrote down in stomach-turning detail the precise symptoms of that merciless venom. Erupting blisters the size of a hen’s egg. Flesh blackening, rotting, and sloughing away from the bone. Sweating, drooling, trembling, nausea, vomiting, ranting and raving and spasming like a creature possessed until death seems like a mercy. Others were gripped with a pain unmatched by any wound of war, paired (curiously) with an erection hard as any standing stone.
And yet, in spite of all this, I’m planning an expedition into the mountains. It’s true, I haven’t the equipment with me to safely shelter from the bitter cold above the tree-line, out of the reach of skittering legs and poison-slick fangs. I have no blessing from the gods, and no miracle of alchemy intended to keep the Crawling Death at bay. What I do have, though, is a map. A map from a past age, a more enlightened age, where the cartographers had a decent understanding of the sciences, rather than the encyclopaedic knowledge of rumour and superstition that seems to be the requirement for a mapmaker these days. And from this map - and the journals that I found with it - I have deduced one particularly salient fact, that I am convinced will allow me to make the journey through the supposedly arachnid-infested ravines in perfect safety.
The superstitious peasants might say every last one of those valleys is crawling with deadly poisonous creatures, but in fact, most of them are utterly empty and safe! However, my map has revealed the source of this rumour: Spiders Gorge, which contains over ten thousand spiders, is an outlier adn should not have been counted.
i feel you deserve some sort of prize for this