Lee Hulme (it/its)

@leehulme.com

917 Followers 385 Following

Author of fiction, creative nonfiction & ttrpgs. Gamer, reader, maker. Trans, nonbinary, agender, demiace, neurodivergent, disabled. 1 dog, 3 cats, and the best wife (aka Cuddles). Find me: leehulme.com oddfolx.teamcuddles.net

A drawing of a grey tuxedo cat, with one white paw out, looking ahead. Squeak is written above, and the artist sig is down to the right.
A large stuffed leopard lies on a brown leather office chair, with a small grey tudexo cat lying tucked up into it. Both are posed with their back legs tucked in and front legs stretched out.
When I Have Fears - John Keats When I have fears that I may cease to be Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain, Before high-pilèd books, in charactery, Hold like rich garners the full ripened grain; When I behold, upon the night’s starred face, Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, And think that I may never live to trace Their shadows with the magic hand of chance; And when I feel, fair creature of an hour, That I shall never look upon thee more, Never have relish in the faery power Of unreflecting love—then on the shore Of the wide world I stand alone, and think Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.
A long legged staffie, black with a mostly white face, stares lovingly up at the human behind camera
I always know – and I mean this in a good way – that I’ll get something wild, imaginative and just a teensy bit disturbing, served with an extra-large side order of romantic sentiment with a Lee Hulme story. As usual, I wasn’t disappointed.
Close up of a calico kitty, lying on her side, on my chest, with one paw over her face, another curled up by her white stomach, and one back paw showing by a tail. All paws are white-socked, and her stimach is mostly white. You can also see black, orange and brown patches The fur on her stomach is spiky because she's a punk and that's where she keeps her mohawk
A long legged staffie with a mostly white face and black head, with her head resting on a pillow and gazing into the camera
A grey tuxedo cat wearing a turquoise bow tie looks up and to the left of the camera, with light shining from the right side of her face
A hand holding a programme for the play Murder of the Nile. The background is black, with a shaded golden pyramid. Text reads: A registered charity (number) The St Joseph's Players presents Murder on the Nile Tuesday 21st - Saturday 25th April Written by Agathe Christie Directed by Donna Wood This amateur production of 'Murder. On the Nike' is presented by arrangement with Concord Theatricals Ltd. on behalf of Agatha Christie Ltd. [Social media links]
The Cryptkeeper is sitting at a table, wearing a reddish waistcoat and grey shirt, using a knife
A calico kitty looking half asleep, her white-socked paws out in front
On a blue watery background, a shark says: You are not a disappointment You are super great And if anyone gets down on you for not being perfect all the time then... Bite their faces off! You are super great And terfs are high in protein Super. Great.
A tortie with looooooong whiskers is curled up in her human's stomach, looking cute and sleepy
A hand, with colours shifting between purple, yellow and red
A long legged staffie, black with a white snout and greying face & eyebrows, looks lovingly up into the camera, with a very boopable snout
A flame-style hand, in colours shifting between purple, orange, and yellow
A blast of purple and black, topped by a stretching hand, with a purple eye in the centre. Text below reads Void Shifted
A long legged staffie, black with a mostly white snout and face, sleeps with her head in a cone of shame
A long-legged staffie, black with a white snout and eyes, looks very sad in a cone of shame
A pile of torn up paper on a green blanket
Vince grew up in the Wasted World, like most folk these days. The last of the long timers who remembered the old days died before he was born. His parents tried to instill a sense of... something into him. Pride. Education. Community. After their commune was ripped apart by raiders when he was 13, Vince was sent by his parents to escape via one of their tunnels. He wandered until, starving, dehydrated, close to death, he stumbled into a compound led by a preacher man. A compound full of people who took him in. A people who cared for him, brought him back to health and showed him how to be part of their community. He did well. And any moment not spent in work, he spent learning from the preacher man, Oswald. Oswald taught him from the tattered remains of a holy book. Held together by string and tape, the book was convoluted, contradictory, and clearly
A grey tuxedo cat wearing a purple velvet bow tie lies on a blanket, one paw extended slightly, looking just above the camera
Close up of the face of a long-legged staffie covered in a grey blanket. She is black with a largely white face and snout.
A photo of a torty cat, curled up on my torso, looking sleepily at the camera with her stomach fur all tufty
A photo of a torty (left) with a red collar, and a cowcat (right) with a black bandana looking at the camera, held by the human who controls the treats.
A fox drawn in the style of Japanese Kabuki masks, white with red and yellow markings, and four tails along the bottom
A left-side-on photo of a white cat with black markings, wearing a black bandanna with white skull and crossbones, looking away from the camera
A long legged staffie, black with white peppering and a mostly silver/grey face & eyebrows, fast asleep under a grey blanket, tucked between two humans under their own own blankets, looking very cosy and happy.
A close up of a hand holding a black silicon mold, showing four skull heads, two pointing up and two pointing down.
A grey and white tuxedo cat, wearing a purple velvet bow tie and a holly decoration on her collar
A grey & white tuxedo cat wearing a purple velvet bow tie lies like a baby in a brunette cis woman's arms, one front paw outstretched towards the camera
A trans & disability-inclusive Progress Pride flag hangs on the inside of the downstairs front window of a house
Close up of the squished face of a long-legged staffie. Her fur is black, with lots of old lady white and grey.
On a white background, a hand reaches out with a purple eye coming from the palm. Behind the hand is a circle of black and purple lightning. Beneath the image are the words Void Shifted in a blocky, slightly uneven font.
A tortie cat lying stretched out on a blanket, under which her favourite human lies, leaning on the human's arm and looking adoringly up into the camera which is directly in front of the human's face.
A white cat with black patches lies, using one front paw as a pillow, looking sleepy.
A photograph of a sky with dark clouds, and some dark blue surrounding. In the centre, a shard of golden sunlight thrusts through the clouds as if coming from another dimension.
It turned to see a shivering young man with a gaunt complexion. A quick scan told it that this man was hungry, and slept with vermin, sharing their food. Homeless, then. And starving. Just like itself. “Do you need food? I have no money, I’m sorry,” Prototype 217 told him. The man didn’t seem to hear. He reached behind him and pulled a knife from the smll of his back. It flashed in the faint light, old and pitted, rusting at the hilt, but still sharp. “Gimme your wallet.”
A tortie sleeps stretched across a person's torso, one front paw out and touching a tattooed arm. Behind her head you can just see the person's other arm ensuring a pillow supports said head.
A long-legged staffie, black with a white snout and eyebrows, lies across a bed, looking at the camera, with a yellow ball between her front legs. She wears a navy blue sweater with grey trim.
Digital book cover reading The End of the World as We Know It New Tales of Stephen King's The Stand. Edited by Christopher Golden and Brian Keene. Introduction by Stephen King. Most text is in a cream colour, the final line is in red. The cover is fairly minimalistic, black with a smashed glass look and a raven's head in the bottom left.
A white cat with black patches looks at the camera with a questioningly tilted head.
An agender person with beard, tattoos, and glasses, wearing a baseball cap. They also wear a blue tshirt with text and images: Level *entwined rings* 4 *entwined rings* Game controller Complete
A white cat with black patches looks at the camera, with one paw placed possessively across a game controller (aka her pillow)
But the humans who taught it, who worked so diligently to create the perfect cybernetic structure, and the perfect AI to reside within; the humans who talked to it, taught it, and–most importantly right now–fed it, had not come in 27 days, 19 hours and 43 minutes.
A white cat with black patches looks thoughtfully past the camera, with her front paws politely resting on a stuffed toy
“Yes. I can be Everett. Do I need a surname?” “Probably at some point, but we’ll worry about that later. Let me show you the rest of the house, and then I’m gonna have to get some sleep. That was good brandy, Everett.” Everett smiled. It had done well with the gift - the first gift it had ever given. It had found an ally, perhaps even a friend, in Lena. And it had a name now. Like a real human.
Close up of a torty cat, with her ears back and her left front paw reached out towards the camera
A white cat with black patches around her ears, on her back, and tail, looks at the camera with her left front paw politely resting atop a pillow.
Prototype 217 sat silently, as it had sat for the last 27 days, 19 hours and 42 minutes.
The sensation of all those tiny, hot pinpricks hitting its skin was soothing. When it focused, it could pick them out individually, but somehow that was less satisfying than feeling them all at once. It understood that humans felt stress relief after a shower, and as it stood under the spray, using the items Lena had shown it after it first arrived, it wondered if that was something it might ever feel.
than just nonsense. What if it’s what I want to become, or will become?” Lena squeezed it tightly into a hug, “You get to choose who you become, Everett. Everything you do, every choice you make, you decide who you want to be. You might be worried about where things could possibly lead–hence the nightmare–but you still get to choose.” “Free will,” Everett smiled faintly as it broke the hug. “Sounds good.”
“There’s other people out in the world. Most of them will see a gender non-confirming adult and let it be, but some might decide you’re some gender or other–usually male or female because they can’t see anything else existing–and take issue.
A photo of a torty cat flopped over a human's calf, looking up at the camera
A whiteboard with an Acrostic poem and a short note, with some doodles. The Acrostic reads: We know through Observable Reality that we are Lucky to have you - Dastardly though you may Seem But we also know that Every time we say so, your Silly brain Tries to tell you otherwise Don't listen! After all we would be Doomed without you Just below trxt reads: All our love, K + L Then just beneath and to the left: P.S. When you find this, tell us! We took a photo for you to keep, so you don't need to buy a new whiteboard XD Doodles down the left of the acrostic, with text: Thanks for the [Doodle of a pizza slize] We can hear you playing and we love to hear you laugh. You are a GREAT GM. [Doodle of a couple of gaming die] [Doodle of an open box of After Eight mints] We forgot [arrow up to doodle] so have [arrow to acrostic] instead!
Black long-legged staffie with grey snout and salt & pepper face, lying in a bed looking sleepy, with a yellow ball by her back paws.
You’ll never be alone with me in these sessions, they’ll also be videoed and recorded - and you can have access to your own copies. This is a team effort,” Tim was grinning now, clearly already writing up questions in his head. Everett laughed, Tim’s glee catching it unawares.
A white cat with black patches lies on a blue pillow, using her left front paw as a head pillow. She looks fed up.
A mirrored image of a dark-haired person, with a hand framing the lower side of the face, with code lines down the centre. The left side looks human, the right side has fangs and sharp nails.
To Everett, the days had passed in boring, colourless hours. Even its self-enforced rest times, its progressing friendship with the people guarding and looking after it, felt tiring. The only moments where Everett felt anything different were the tests, and even that stopped at occasional mild annoyance, usually at being interrupted.