going to the club didn't fix gaspar. neither did killing the cult that enslaved his father, but it was worth a shot. and a step in the right direction probably
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ellievsbear
Monterey Bay Aquarium
occasionally subtle
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
I'd rather be in outer space šø
One Nice Bug Per Day
cherry valley forever
Keni

JBB: An Artblog!
šŖ¼

Janaina Medeiros
hello vonnie
Misplaced Lens Cap
Game of Thrones Daily

Kaledo Art

romaā
YOU ARE THE REASON

#extradirty
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

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@corasparasol
going to the club didn't fix gaspar. neither did killing the cult that enslaved his father, but it was worth a shot. and a step in the right direction probably
auto immune disorders happen when the immune system ignores regulatory factors and begins attacking healthy bodily tissues, due to what scientists refer to as "sheer love of the game"
We rly need to bring back the term āacquaintanceā like into regular and frequent use. So many high drama community squabbles and feelings of betrayal could be avoided if people just admitted thereās a step between āstrangerā and a full on friend whose friendship you have a commitment to continuing and fostering. Like sometimes youāre just aquatinted with someone and you might decide you donāt like them after getting to know them a bit betterā¦thatās very normal
No IDs, but these tags got me in a huff:
So ok look. The point is not the flared leg by itself. These cannot be yoga pants. These are, and you have to understand this if you are too young to have worn them, BLUE JEANS. And this was the last years before all jeans were 70% spandex.
They were denim, and they weren't bell bottoms. They hung loose from the knee in a way that would make a wizard envious. We all walked around like we were wearing hakama. And they dragged on the ground. That was important. Ragged cuffs. If your jeans weren't so long that they had ratty cuffs, they were embarrassingly short.
And the thing about denim is that it's a twill weave and it's cotton. So not only does it hold a lot of water, it wicks. Walking around in these suckers on a wet day could get you wet to the knees even if you never stepped in a puddle.
Then you'd go inside and take off your shoes and try to avoid letting your freezing, wet, filthy pant legs touch your skin.
Yoga pants. Hmf.
people in cold climates would have a tide line of white marks around their knees (if they were normal height) in the winter.
From wicking up road salt.
The visceral memory of that time is something that never leaves you. Everyone's jeans were many inches higher in the back than the front because you kept stepping on the hem and ripping it off. Your lower legs were so very cold. Every new pair of jeans literally enveloped your entire foot, they were so so long re: leg-to-waist ratio. Walking on a rainy day was a legitimate workout. You have no idea.
in absolute tears about the pride module at my work
HOLY SHIT GUYS, I WAS INSPIRED BY THIS POST TO TRY MAKE THE SONG AND YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE THE SCREAM I SCRUMPT WHEN I DRAGGED THE TRAINING AUDIO OVER THE BACKING TRACK AND IT LINED UP PERFECTLY
Tempted to actually put this on spotify so I can secretly stream it at work...
Tagging @batshit-auspol because as an Australian you're the only big account I know who might share (sorry).
happy first day of pride everyone
our longing for inconvenience by hanif abdurraqib (id in alt)
Per @spoonstrek
(OUR SHARE OF NIGHT / TALI)
Well, you know what they always used to say? You should picture your audience naked. Ugh, that's kinda creepy. And then, of course, when they get older, it's even nauseating. So that didn't work for me. But, you know what did? I would pick one person in the audience and I would do the show just for them.
HACKS (2021-)
just. please know. that giffing scenes like that is a fucking nightmare labor of love.
to wit:
bottom's the raw capture, middle's just flat curve correction to make the footage visible, top is the final coloring with /counts seven adjustment layers to add back in Literally Anything But Yellow
every giffer i know does it out of love for the game, but for the record it's not... easy. it's not just slapping the footage in a cap grabber and posting whatever it spits out. "professional" lighting and color grading has only gotten waaay murkier and flatter in the fifteen years i've been giffing on here, so uh. don't repost gifs, please!
I thought the bottom was a black bar. I didn't even realize that was footage.
Everyone say thank you to your neighbourhood GIF maker! Giffers are so important to the fannish ecosystem, but to so many people the amount of work involved invisible.
Finally over halfway into Mariana Enriquez' Our Share of Night and one of my recurring thoughts thus far is yeah, this is exactly what a satanic cult that managed to make contact with something Real would be like. Full of the powerful using it as an excuse to be sadistic monsters and hearing what they want to hear
I just saw an acquaintance use "šš" in place of the word genocide and. like. at what point are we going to decide that this kind of self-censorship is too degrading to abide anymore.
"grape" "sewer-slide" "the panini" I feel like I'm surrounded by Rugrats who overheard the grown ups talking about the news.
I'm tired of seeing people excuse algospeak because "corporations are making us do it." Why are we all letting them do that. The Internet is real life. Get mad about it.
itās so magical and beautiful that there are sprawling interconnected cave systems carved deep into the earth by various geological forces and you donāt have to go in them. there are miles and miles of stone passageways in total darkness that require you to exhale all the air out of your lungs to squeeze through parts of them and you donāt have to be there. some of these squeezes are underwater and require cave divers to take off their oxygen tanks and push them through ahead of them and me i am above ground looking at the sky as we speak. there are untold subterranean wonders no human has ever seen and i will not be the one to discover them #grateful #blessed
so true there could be any number of undiscovered species down there all of which are none of my business and never will be. peace and love on (the surface of) planet earth š
has anyone figured out how to turn off the thing where you love your pet so much it slides inexorably into grief-borrowing
āFor me this glass is already broken. I enjoy it; I drink out of it. It holds my water admirably, sometimes even reflecting the sun in beautiful patterns. If I should tap it, it has a lovely ring to it. But when I put this glass on the shelf and the wind knocks it over or my elbow brushes it off the table and it falls to the ground and shatters, I say, āOf course.ā When I understand that the glass is already broken, every moment with it is precious.ā
Chalk circles
when will we talk about the willful helplessness epidemic on here. So many people on this god forsaken website demand to have any and all things that exist outside their personal experiences directly, personally pre-chewed and spoonfed to them. And when you do, they'll then ask for you to swallow for them, too, because, you see, in THEIR experience..,
I used to think the phrase "get over yourself" was needlessly cruel and dismissive. Then I got over myself and realized just how frustrating and annoying it is to deal with someone who utterly refuses to engage with anything outside of themselves and their own emotions until they're sufficiently placated and reassured and satisfied.
You really, really need to learn how to set aside your sense of needing to have a role in everything (yes, even if that role is Thing To Be Discarded Or Ignored) and engage with the world as something that exists independantly of you. Your experiences are limited and your interpretation of things is only your own; what may seem obvious or sensible to you is likely unthinkable and baffling to others. What may seem mind-boggling and indigestible to you is very likely something someone else could only dream of being unfamiliar with.
Humble yourself and seek to incorporate others' experiences into your worldview, lest you be doomed to unwittingly enforce the solipsistic belief that your experiences are the only ones that matter with every breath and motion.
Sometimes, things will exist, facts will exist that will not serve you in any way. They will not acknowledge you and will not gratify you with a place in things. This is not a statement on your value or worth or your necessity in life, in fact it is strictly not that; some things just genuinely have nothing to do with you. They say nothing about you, and are unaffected by any truths about you, or any of your experiences. You must make peace with this or else.