Reblog to open a rail line from your blog to the person you reblogged this from
our beautiful rail line... (so far)
I love this site
like a quarter of the railway
Acquired Stardust

Discoholic đȘ©

ellievsbear
Cosimo Galluzzi
noise dept.
One Nice Bug Per Day
Xuebing Du

Kiana Khansmith
NASA
cherry valley forever
đȘŒ
Keni
Monterey Bay Aquarium

Andulka
Cosmic Funnies
tumblr dot com
i don't do bad sauce passes
Today's Document
taylor price
YOU ARE THE REASON
seen from TĂŒrkiye

seen from Malaysia

seen from France

seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from South Africa
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from TĂŒrkiye

seen from France
seen from Spain
seen from United States

seen from United States
@bizzylifetime
Reblog to open a rail line from your blog to the person you reblogged this from
our beautiful rail line... (so far)
I love this site
like a quarter of the railway
RB if you think CD drives in computers are not obsolete, but in fact still necessary, despite being artificially phased out
Beautiful Cinnamon Roll Too Good For This World, Too Pure
happy 10th birthday to beautiful cinnamon roll too good for this world, too pure
Intrusive thought of the day:
What would happen if I pressed the hot coffee pot to my stomach....
MCU + TAROT - part one (insp.)
Toonami:
Black Lives Matter.
Fucking TOONAMI. Iâm about to cry. My childhood just spoke some deep as truth.
shout out to ace and aro kids who are constantly bombarded with the opinion that sex and romantic love are directly connected to living a happy life.
Yâall are just reblogging this at the speed of sound tonight
Since itâs almost valentines day, and this message is about to get hammered in even more, reblogging this again.
so my dad is a college professor and he just got alerted recently that in an effort to go âpaperless,â the faculty is having their printers taken away. My dad decided to take this opportunity and⊠create a meme? So he goes proudly up to me and tells me âI created a meme!!!â and lo and beholdâŠ
my dadâs first meme
he was so proud of it and he emailed it individually to other faculty and nobody gave him any acknowledgement, he came into my room all sad. pls share to give my father the meme support he deserves
op this is literally so fucking funny please tell your dad i love him and i need more memes
i honestly dont get why people stopped reblogging things they like on here bc like what are you afraid of??? people thinking youre cringey?? guess what bitch! youre on tumblr! it's all cringey! reblog everything you like and do it shamelessly no one fuckin cares
people stopped reblogging things because it is a lot easier to like things than to reblog them on mobile, and that's what the majority of people use. It's a design flaw not the users fault
idk if most people are aware of this, but if you hold the reblog button down you can literally just swipe to the icon of the blog you want it to reblog to. itâs quick and easy
I just reblogged this for a second timr. Wrote this note, too. On mobile. Took seconds. No biggie.
oh shit, it never occurred to me that people might be unaware of this!
For anyone who didn't know this!
Also reblogging things from creators and writers (like me) helps to spread our word and promote it to ppl who are currently unaware of us!
-FemaleWarrior
Tintin remembers what comes after 15.
FUCKING HELL ITâS BACK FROM LAST YEAR
This literally gets reblogged every 15th of the month. Itâs almost two years old. Itâs beautiful.
listen up yaâll this post is 6 years old now and youâre still reblogging it. every month. once a month, my notifications blow up for this one video, but only until the 16th. then the notes on this vid completely stop. itâs so eerily spot on and impressive how you just all collectively know what to do. if Iâm not online, people irl still remind me that itâs the 15th. thank you for six surreal years of me wondering if I completely fucking lost it. hereâs to the 15th
I love that the internet saw people comparing women and other alienated groups of people and went, âtheyâre dating,â and, âthey support each other.â Weâre improving as a society.
Does anyone know who these artists are?? Theyâre brilliant and Iâd like to credit them!!
THIS IS HOW TO TAKE A TRASH OPINION COMIC AND MAKE IT BETTER. THANK YOU.
Honestly if you don't think Morticia Gomez and Jessica Rabbit would love and support the fuck out of each other than you don't know these characters as well as you think.
I love every single one of these great comics!
@robinhess said Tony Starkâs dressing looks like Sailor Moon transformation⊠And I did it. SORRY!!!
The last photo I ever took of my kitty, Jack. Rest in peace, sweet boy.
scott lang, completely misunderstanding peter parkerâs power: hey if u want man we could get tiny and just like hang out, i donât know if youâve ever been in a lego castle but itâs pretty sweet
peter parker: u have no idea how much physical pain having to turn this offer down is causing me but,
Scott Lang, upon realizing Peter Parker canât shrink: oh okay no biggee, weâll just make the LEGO castle big
Peter, ready to cry from joy: do you like Star Wars? Because I have a replica⊠and my friend Ned and I got it to flyâŠ
Scott Lang, a mechanical engineer and nerd: kid you are my people
Tony, calling peter: âŠand may I know WHY THE HELL IS SHIELD CALLING ME ABOUT A LIFE-SIZED DEATH STAR IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DESERT?!
Peter: we didnât want it to crush any buildings so we brought it out here!
Tony: THATS N O T MY POINT!!!
#and then Tony wonders when the hell HE became the responsible one#and promptly abandons his responsibilities#and jumps in his armor#to go zoom around the life size death star#pretending heâs Luke doing the trench run (via)
It got better!
I was gonna SAY, Tony would fly out there, look at the thing, and goâŠ. No, this isnât life size. Impressive though. Okay, bugs, put on these helmets, weâre taking this into orbit and doing this at 1:1 scale.
Sam: Barnes is gonna make an awesome Chewbacca.
Bucky: -.-
Guardians arriving back in Earth orbit for a visit: Rocket : When the **** did Earth get another moon? Peter Qull (with an indescribable look on his face, but knowing his entire life has built to this moment): Thatâs no moon!
IT GOT SO MUCH BETTER
THE MOST PURE!!!
HELLO MY FRIEND IM DRESSED JUST LIKE YOU
The whole crew seems so supportive, but that guy is beautifully enthusiastic. I especially loved how he asked for a hug, but then told the girl that she didnât have to if she didnât want to. Love that care and conscientiousness. Whole vid almost added years back to my life âșïž
An interesting sci-fi short story from 4chan.
[Imgur]
That is some fine writing.
The Imgur link is broken so:
[Series of posts on 09/16/11]
About twelve years ago, a man died in high orbit over Tau Ceti V.
His name was Drake McDougal, and aside from a few snapshots and vague anecdotes from his drinking buddies, thatâs probably all weâll ever know about him. Another colony-born man with little records and little documentation, working whatever asteroid field the Dracs deigned to allow them. Every now and then a Drac gunship would strut on through the system, Pax Draconia and all that. But that was it.
One fine day, one of those gunships had a misjump. A bad one. It arrived only ninety clicks above atmo, with all its impellers blown out by the gravatic feedback of Tau Ceti Vâs gravity well. The Dracs scraped enough power together for a good system-wide broadbeam and were already beginning the Death Chant when they hit atmo.
People laughed at the recording of sixty Dracs going from mysterious chanting to ââwhat-the-fuckâingâ for years after they forgot the name Drake McDougal. The deafening âCLANGâ and split second of stunned silence afterwards never failed to entertain. Drake had performed a hasty re-entry seconds after the gunship and partially slagged his heatshield diving after it. Experts later calculated he suffered 11Gs when he leaned on the retro to match velocities with the Dracs long enough to engage the mag-grapples on his little mining tug.
Even the massively overpowered drive of a tug has its limits, and Drakeâs little ship hit hers about one and a half minutes later. Pushed too far, the tugâs fusion plant lost containment just as he finished slingshotting the gunship into low orbit. (It was unharmed, of course; the Drac opinion of fusion power best translated as âquaint,â kind of how we view butter churns.)
It was on the local news within hours, on newsnets across human space within days. It was discussed, memorialized, marveled upon, chewed over by daytime talk-show hosts, and I think somebody even bought a plaque or some shit like that. Then there was a freighter accident, and a mass-shooting on Orbital 5, and of course, the first Vandal attacks in the periphery.
The galaxy moved on.
Twelve years is a long time, especially during war, so twelve years later, as the Vandalâs main fleet was jumping in near Jupiter and we were strapping into the crash couches of what wee enthusiastically called âwarships,â I guaran-fucking-tee you not one man in the entire Defense Force could remember who Drake McDougal was.
Well, the Dracs sure as hell did.
Dracs do not fuck around. Dozens of two-kilometer long Drac supercaps jumped in barely 90K klicks away, and then we just stood around staring at our displays like the slack-jawed apes we were as we watched what a real can of galactic whoop-ass looked like. You could actually see the atmosphere of Jupiter roil occasionally when a Vandal ship happened to cross between it and the Drac fleet. Thereâs still lightning storms on Jupiter now, something about residual heavy ions and massive static charges or something.
Fifty-eight hours later, with every Vandal ship reduced to slagged debris and nine wounded Drac ships spinning about as they vented atmosphere, they started with the broad-band chanting again. And then the communiqué that confused the hell out of us all.
âDo you hold out debt fulfilled?â
After the sixth or seventh comms officer told them âwe donât know what the hell youâre talking aboutâ as politely as possible, the Drac fleet commander got on the horn and asked to speak to a human Admiral in roughly the same tone as a telemarketer telling a kid to give the phone to Daddy. When the Admiral didnât know either, the Drac went silent for a minute, and when he came back on his translator was using much smaller words, and talking slower.
âIs our blood debt to Drake McDougalâs clan now satisfied?â
The Admiral said âWho?â
What the Drac commander said next wouldâve caused a major diplomatic incident had he remembered to revert to the more complex translation protocols. He thought the Admiral must be an idiot, a coward, or both. Eventually, the diplomats were called out, and we were asked why the human race has largely forgotten the sacrifice of Drake McDougal.
Humans, we explained, sacrifice themselves all the time.
We trotted out every news clip from the space-wide Nets from the last twelve years. Some freighter cook that fell on a grenade during a pirate raid on Outreach. A ship engineer who locked himself into the reactor room and kept containment until the crew evacuated. Firefighter who died shielding a child from falling debris with his body, during an earthquake. Stuff like that.
That Dracs were utterly stunned. Their diplomats wandered out of the conference room in a daze. Weâd just told them that the rarest, most selfless and honorable of acts - acts that incurred generations-long blood-debts and moved entire fleets - was so routine for our species that they were bumped off the news by the latest celebrity scandal.
Everything changed for humanity after that. And it was all thanks to a single tug pilot who taught the galaxy what truly defines Man.
This makes me cry
It had been so many cycles since the Drac incident, and even more since the Drake McDougal event, and the the galaxy had sort of come to the conclusion that humans were, well, human about things, and that they regarded their lives in completely incomprehensible ways.
Yet for all of the witnessed sacrifices, few warriors had ever been taught to recognise the most terrifying of human deeds. In a forgettable corner of the galaxy, in an unremarked planet with a previously less than recorded history, a party of six human security escorts bringing their rescued survivors to a hive ship became a party of five,Â
A lone human, holding one of their handheld âmeleeâ weapons wordlessly tilted their head to their commander, and stopped, standing in plain sight in the middle of a field.Â
Waiting.
When asked, the lower ranked humans simply said âShe knows whatâs sheâs doingâ.  The human captainâs inexplicable statement âSheâs buying us some timeâ made it as if their companion had stepped into some form of marketplace.Â
Katherine of Rescue Groupâs fate was never confirmed, but no pursuit came that night. On the next dawn, when the hive ship was able to leave, the humans insisted we departed immediately, and did not go back for their companion.
We do not know for sure what became of Katherine of Rescue Group. All we know is that when pressed, the human captain explained to our own that the one who stayed had communicated an ancient human tradition, the rite of self sacrifice.  In words, the captain explained, the look and the nod would mean âGo on. Iâll hold them off.  It was not, as we thought, that this one warrior had sought victory over many enemies, but that they had calculated a trade off of the minutes or hours it could take to defeat a human, against the time needed by their companions.
Humans, as humans say, do not go gentle into that good night. Â
Worse, they do not go gentle into bad nights, worse days, or terrifying sunsets. Dawn seems to fill them with potency and rage, as if to call upon the solar gods and tell the deities to come down here and say that to their human faces. We do not know how long she bought us, but we, the hive now called Kâthrn, understand what it means to have someone expend their existence for the survival of others.
We find it terrifying.
I love this one. Reblogging for something new.Â