One Nice Bug Per Day
roma★
No title available
dirt enthusiast
Game of Thrones Daily
styofa doing anything
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
ojovivo
Discoholic 🪩
wallacepolsom
tannertan36
Monterey Bay Aquarium
will byers stan first human second
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Keni
NASA
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
$LAYYYTER
JBB: An Artblog!
Three Goblin Art
seen from Brazil
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Malaysia
seen from Indonesia
seen from Romania
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Ireland
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
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seen from United States
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seen from United States
@dianaprinsss
the weird schrödinger's emotion that is "that character death was narratively satisfying and emotionally impactful and ultimately the best way to handle their character arc" simultaneously with "noooo but I wanted them to live :( :( :("
Curly and Anya
courage the himedanshi dog or whatever
David Lynch, Cannes Film Festival (2002)
YOU go make ART and then REFUSE to EXPLAIN it because you already DID your job and now it's the AUDIENCE'S turn to MAKE MEANING out of the ART
okay mr lynch i will go and do just that as i fucking should
reblog if you agree
Got a little teary eyed looking at Jean-François Millets “Peasants Bringing Home a Calf Born in the Fields” today
A crazy thing about Mouthwashing is that Pony Express lost communication with one of its freighters for months and didn’t send anyone to check.
A genuinely reputable company, or at the very least a decent one, would have sent someone, something out to check after about two weeks of silence. Two months is when the crew start questioning if they are even being looked for which implies they were already expecting it to take a while cause P.E just doesn’t care.
They don’t care about who they hire. They don’t care about the conditions they place their crew in or how safe the safety measures actually are. They just don’t care, made rules and regulations so they can care less and succeed in getting away with it with how little those ideas are discussed.
psychic damage
Curly and Anya
Tumblr Sexywoman Contest 2025 Final Round
Morticia Addams
Miss Piggy
I have never in my life experienced more real “why must we pit two bad bitches against one another?”
Tulpar crew, hours before their departure
i go on bluesky until the liberals piss me off, i go on tumblr until the communists piss me off, i go on twitter until the bitchy reactionary girls and gays piss me off
bluesky post: we need to stick it to the DICKtator in chief by funding my new ttrpg zine
tumblr post: sexual assault is only traumatic if you have a puritanical view of sex
twitter post: sorry if this isnt woke but the fat dolls are lowkey not serving
TikTok live is such a waste of time there are no good….
this is how we should generate power for cities
contextual storytelling from that sign in the back
muttering "the hamsters control the wheels" as i wander around like a blind medieval soothsayer
realistic coworker conversation
Speedfreaks on the scene
Because it is the anniversary of his death, I wanted to share a small story about my grandfather.
Before I knew that I was intersex, I identified as a trans man. And I went the way any trans man has to go if he wants to transition in my country. My parents thankfully were supportive but I was afraid to tell my grandparents. My grandparents were German and lived/were raised during the third reich. While both of them never said or acted in a way that suggested that they had fascist views (my grandfather was until he died part of a leftwing political party), but there still was this fear in me. "They are old, they grew up surrounded by abhorrent beliefs...". And then there was my aunt. Who would constantly claim that my grandfather was homophobic.
The problem was, back then, there were no openly out gay people in our area, so I never got the chance to see my grandfather interact with someone who was queer. So I just believed her. Because she was so insistent on it. And because it confirmed my fears and my brain loves to be constantly afraid.
But I knew I wanted to come out. I had to, eventually, because I had stopped my estrogen treatment (back then, I did not know that I got that because I was intersex) and went on testosterone instead and first physical changes began to show. We all lived in one big house, so my grandparents would eventually notice.
I was so afraid that my father at some point offered to talk to his parents. I waited outside in the hallway that led to their kitchen and listened.
My father explained, easy to understand, that I was going to transition from female to male because I felt terrible in my body. My grandfather asked, "Is that why the child* is so depressed all this time?" I had been in and out of multiple clinics for manic depression at that point. My father gave a yes. And my grandmother made the incredibly selfish comment, "Can't that wait until I am dead?"
Before I even got time to be upset, my grandfather slammed his fist down on the table. I had never seen or heard him do anything like that before. He was a very calm and collected man who preferred to leave the room before he got too angry. "No, it can't wait. The child gets to get well now. And if that is what is going to help, then it needs to be done."
From that day on, he never used my deadname again or used the wrong pronouns for me. Sometimes, he would stop in a sentence to think and remind himself, but he did always address me correctly.
He celebrated with me when my name was legally changed. He built the bed frame for me and my boyfriend's bed when we moved in together, just like he had built the first adult sized bedframe for me when I outgrew my small bed. He drove my boyfriend to his chemo sessions because my grandfather also had cancer and knew how terrifying it was to go alone.
Did he fully understand what it means to be intersex? To transition? No. But he understood that one of his loved ones was suffering and that he could help to alleviate that pain. And so he did.
He taught me calligraphy. He taught me how to sew. He taught me bookbinding. He gave me many gifts.
But the biggest gift he gave me was, that when someone hated me for what I am, I could stomach it. Because this man was willing to unlearn the bigotry he had been taught for decades so he could love me for who I am.
*in my grandpa's dialect it was normal to refer to children as just 'the child' (genderless)
People will claim to be a fan of some thing and then hate all of the themes and motifs and story lines and plot lines and protagonists and antagonists like man I don’t think that you actually like it here
i knew this screenshot would come in handy
Huh. My bad, I didn't know there were rules on how to enjoy something 🙄
There are. For all of the bitching and moaning, you do have to ultimately like something for what it is to be able to say you enjoy it. That’s what those words mean. Hope this helps 👍
