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shark vs the universe
hello vonnie
will byers stan first human second
Xuebing Du
tannertan36
@theartofmadeline
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Origami Around
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Misplaced Lens Cap
almost home
taylor price
🪼
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Discoholic 🪩
we're not kids anymore.
Cosimo Galluzzi
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
#extradirty
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@ciceqi
Pffffft. Uh. He horsey, but...confused.
Lead Basic/White Dye/White Wool. Oh my god. (I have barely even looked at FR for months, but I guess we're ramping up for a battle, so now I'm seeing all the hilarious gene combos I've missed.)
The first time she learned of the ghost was from the realtor. They had been very upfront about it, just like they had made it very clear that it being haunted was the only reason this stately Victorian home was anywhere near her budget. So she had taken it, of course she had. It was a sweet house, a family home. No manor or mansion by any definition of the word, but built before the time that people were concerned with saving space. It was stately, but in disrepair, and most definitely, absolutely, undoubtedly haunted.
It shouldn't really have surprised anyone that he did not move on when he died. He had been the butler of the house when the family had lived there, had become its custodian during their absence, and what was the purpose of a custodian if not to wait with the house for the return of its owners? Except they never returned.
The first time she felt the ghost was when she went to clean the place up. Which is why she came back with a sensible supply of ibuprofen the next time. It was very hard to get anything done with impending migraines stabbing at her temples. The bone chilling cold that seemed to seep from the walls was harder to keep at bay, but she did not hold it against him. If she had been trapped in this place she would be kicking up more fuss than the occasional cold spot. Besides, it was a good incentive to keep busy. It's impossible to be cold while scrubbing a floor. By the time she had gotten around to restoring the fireplaces to their original marble with paint stripper and a scraper, she didn’t even feel chilly anymore.
They might have abandoned the house, but he hadn't. He had kept it tidy, well aired out, and in good repair, decade after decade. Over half a century. What was a century more? It was a good house, a fine house. It did not need “developing”, it did not need these people with grey paint and eggshell paper. They should have left the finials and weathervane in place.
The first time she heard the ghost was while looking for the kitchen door. There were bits and pieces missing of the house, her house. Someone, at some point, must have taken that door off its hinges, in a vain attempt to approach open-plan living. It was nowhere to be found, but she would find it, if only that terrible rattling and wailing would stop. It did stop, once she found the ladder that had dropped down from the attic. The attic the realtor had told her was completely inaccessible. The attic filled with ornaments and antique doorknobs, a battered weathervane, and a panelled kitchen door.
Restore... That was a quaint word. Not at all like “remodel” or “modernise”. There were a lot of words he had never heard before, he had not bothered to listen for a long time. Such a cheerful, appreciative voice.
The first time she saw the ghost was while poring over a sample book, fretting over the few scraps off wallpaper she had found behind a patched-up baseboard. The colours were too faded to make out and she did not want to get it wrong. Victorian reproductions were expensive, and the leaves and the feathers looked so much alike. She had nothing but a corner of paper to go on and she stared and stared and stared, until a hand reached out of nowhere, and turned the page to the maroon one. She barely breathed, she put the scrap of paper on the page, a perfect corner of the pattern, and smiled.
It was a fine house, a beloved house. And people came there again, not to buy and destroy it, to visit. There were people who said they wanted to buy it, people with broad smiles and greedy eyes. But that would not happen now. They were always sent away.
But the first time she met the ghost was on a pale autumn morning, stumbling from the car to the front door with her arms full bolts of damask for the curtains. She had just begun to wonder how she'd reach her keys when the fine oak door swung open, all stately hospitality, and on its doorstep, standing respectfully aside, was the same tall, well groomed man, clad all in black. He bowed and stepped aside, speaking in a hollow voice warmed by respect and satisfaction:
“Welcome home, ma'am.”
I just googled this and… yes, it’s absolutely real.
And there are so many articles and videos and discussions. Like, the scientific community is buzzing about this.
So much research will have to be redone because the data was absolutely compromised, off by orders of magnitude, by using standard lab gloves.
The world is probably not horrifically contaminated by microplastics. Sterile laboratories, however, are contaminated by latex and nitrile gloves.
Thank God someone bothered to check.
>I just googled this and… yes, it’s absolutely real.
Sources beyond dude just trust me, for the skeptics.
Scientists may have been unknowingly inflating microplastics pollution estimates, and the surprising source could be their own lab gloves. A
https://www.technologynetworks.com/applied-sciences/news/scientists-lab-gloves-may-be-causing-an-overestimation-of-microplastics-411138
Nitrile and latex gloves that scientists wear while they are measuring microplastics may lead to a potential overestimation of the tiny poll
Nitrile and latex gloves may cause overestimation of microplastics - Phys.org (it’s a pdf)
Researchers discovered a standard piece of lab equipment has added thousands of microplastic ‘false positives’ per each square-millimeter un
Ordinary Lab Gloves May Have Skewed Microplastic Data: That doesn’t mean microplastics aren’t a problem, though
That should be enough
I just had an argument with someone who was like “why would we settle for food stamps when we could have universal basic income?”
And it’s just like. People need food right now you know.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Hippie church moms donating quinoa chips to my local food bank have done more for me materially than any internet idealist ever has.
People get pissed at me for being a pragmatist in my political ideals but I’ve been in the position where I was out of food right now.
And who helped me with that? Not people calling for some nebulous revolution. Not people telling me that the system was useless. Not people preaching at me to grow my own food. It was a church food bank partially funded by the state of Texas that some southern hippies donated a bunch of Whole Foods nonsense to.
And you know what? I’m sick and tired of defeatism. What can we get done right now, huh? Are you gonna accept something a bit better to help people right now or are you waiting for your perfect utopia to come to you?
Yeah, UBI is better than the quinoa chips. Sure. But right now the quinoa chips are stopping people from going hungry and if all we can do is get the food bank quinoa chips to more people, then I say so be it. That’s something. I’ll almost always take baby steps over nothing.
I had the pleasure of designing the dust jacket for Adrian Tchaikovsky's 'Alien Clay', a book I had actually read and adored BEFORE I received the job offer!
Keep an eye out when this Subterranean Press edition comes out; more illustrations by an amazing artist within...
Hey yo I'm a planetary scientist and aerospace engineer at NASA (@deep-space-netwerk is my sideblog-gone-main) if you need testers or anything!! Sounds like you've got the people you need to make this happen but, this is such a cool project and if there's any way to help I'd love to!!
Oh that's scary, we got NASA in here now. Hi! Will definitely keep that in mind, thank you
“scientists don’t want you know” is a phrase that always cracks me up because if you actually meet a scientist they will be shaking and crying like an overstimulated chihuahua with the need to let you know
me whenm i am. Prougraming on my Computer
that’s mozilla herself
it fucken wimdows
I love when you’re reading multiple fics by the same author and you start to spot all the phrases and adjectives they like to use
I ghostwrote these tags my god
that one hit me where i live
Perhaps you stop playing mtg arena until WOTC recognizes the union. Perhaps you dont even buy mtg or dnd things until then. Perhaps.
tags from @analog-delight
Yeah people let that go wayyy too easily and the connection is very relevant to this unionization effort
Here's an article talking about when WotC sent the Pinkertons to a streamer's house
Tolkien only has two kind of elves: Enderenwen the fair, who's eyes hold centuries of pain and yet his gaze is as kind as the first sun in spring, his mother was a nightingale and his father a seabreeze, flowers grow wherever he walks;
And Finwendulenfinfedë, who has killed half of his entire family and is here to fuck shit up
Mama and Baby Dragon My new artbook "Modern Dragons" is on Kickstarter for 11 more days!
Yknow the lil fanfic trope where a character, usually non-human, purrs like a cat. In this case it would obviously be Rocky but what if it was Grace instead hear me out-
Now obviously the hard part of launching a land invasion of Heaven will figuring out where they hid the hole. Finding the miniscule aperture, the hole in physical reality to which all souls are translocated at the moment of death, and then jamming something sturdy in there, getting it in reallll good and working it around until it's big enough to fit some guys with guns through. But the nice part is that the nature of Heaven means that, one, not many people get in in the first place, and two, none of them are good at fighting, because people who're good at fighting mostly don't go to heaven. Except us, when we find the hole. The point is that once we're in there's not much they're gonna be able to do. Pretty much we'll have free run of the place
Update! So we forgot about God
mature content warnings on text posts of nothing but letters on a screen. . . remember when you were allowed to post like an adult and not be shamed or silenced for it
there is no acceptable explanation for this post being given a mature content warning outside of saying that you are an adult baby on the cyber nanny website!
They hate me for being a horny pervert but I have warriors defending my honour across the globe
There are 2 types of fanfic:
fanfic that I like
fanfic that is none of my business
