Have a huge whale heart~
I want to climb in the ventricles like a McDonalds playplace

No title available

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
trying on a metaphor

blake kathryn

titsay
Keni
TVSTRANGERTHINGS

tannertan36
Misplaced Lens Cap

Kiana Khansmith
Sweet Seals For You, Always

Discoholic 🪩

Love Begins
DEAR READER
todays bird
YOU ARE THE REASON
Stranger Things

PR's Tumblrdome
Three Goblin Art

@theartofmadeline

seen from Singapore

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States

seen from Singapore
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia

seen from Singapore

seen from Portugal
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Germany

seen from Malaysia
seen from Türkiye

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from United States
@erased-blankfish
Have a huge whale heart~
I want to climb in the ventricles like a McDonalds playplace
When a book is bad, oh well, the failed artistry of one rube, maybe co-authors. But when a movie is bad, and you consider the military-like scale of production, man-hours, the money involved: you must understand, it feels like I’ve been at war with the world for 29 years.
#when a book is bad you can be like. wow what a fascinating insight into One Guy's personal issues#when a movie is bad it's like. hundreds of people thousands of hours and millions of dollars were marshalled to make this thing#and it Completely Sucks (@specialagentartemis)
and the universe said you are not alone.
Print Stickers
I'm starting a collection
there's a fine line between being wary of manipulation and becoming completely paranoid because you get very close to the realisation that pretty much all human interaction involves doing things we hope will lead to a result we like
this post is about a lot of things. it's about my ex saying it was manipulative to talk to them in a cute voice because that influenced their emotions. it's also about someone on this webbed site saying being funny is "engagement farming". like yeah every single conversation you have is going to be "manipulative" if your standard for that is "did something with the goal of eliciting a response". if that bothers you go live in a hut in the forest and speak only to the trees. I'll be over here manipulating my friends into being happy by giving them compliments
Man, when I was like 16 I got so sick of being made fun of for being the fat kid that I took an axe down inna woods, chopped down a tree, and started doing log-lifts all the time. I got strong as fuck, but I didn’t lose no weight. I actually got bigger.
Same thing happened when I got into fighting. I got even stronger, and I got *fast*, man, and nimble, like a cat. Still chubby.
Body-building culture is a bunch of crap, my dude. Functional muscle is not necessarily toned or lean. You can be swole as hell and still be heavy. And that’s cool.
Embrace your inner barbarian. And when fatphobic little gym twinks try to body shame you, you should DESTROY THEM with your MIGHTY AXE
Can comfirm, i am Quite Fat ™ but i still hit my punching bag hard enough last week make it touch the ceiling and broke a finger in the process
You know, I train with (martial arts) a bunch of dudes, and a few bodybuilders have showed up over the years.
And every damn one of those huge shredded motherfuckers has the endurance of a fucking newborn puppy. Fifteen minutes into warmups and they’re panting for air like like they’re about to die. I’ve sparred them and every one of them telegraphs their moves about two weeks in advance, and are slower than my dead grandpa because their huge useless muscles get in the damn way.
Now. I also work with a couple of guys who are not weightlifters. They do, however, do very physical jobs and are Big Dudes. Picture this sort of build.
No abs to speak of, a bit of a tummy, and those motherfuckers can pick up one of the weightlifters and throw them.
And they’re fast. Like, unfair fast.
Bodybuilding culture is bullshit. Embrace your status as a giant barbarian and if anyone gives you crap throw them off a mountain.
i love and support all strong, fat people
I need you people to realize that you can be friends with people older than you. like, much older than you. like, decades older than you. you can be friends with these people. regular friends, just like anyone your age. it is possible.
does anyone wanna hold hands until we feel a little braver
the reblog map is all of us holding hands btw
We are each other's night sky. No one is alone here.
night sky continues to get brighter. theres always people here for you
Dick, to the Titans: OK this is my little brother, everyone has to be so nice to him!
Jason, 6'4, built like a double fridge and holding a gun: Hey.
The Titans:
Years later.
Dick, to the Titans again: OK this is my even littler brother, everyone be super super nice to him!
Duke, 6'2, built like a linebacker and lit up like a glo stick: Yo.
The Titans:
Years after that.
Dick, again, to the Titans: OK this is my littlest baby brother, everyone has to be so sweet to him! He's a baby!
Damian, 18 and 6'0, made of pure muscle and holding a sword: Greetings.
The Titans: ...where are you finding these brothers.
Dick, to the Titans: Ok, this is my scariest brother. I know he’s pretty intimidating and a little weird, but he’s got a really good heart and needs friends. So be extra nice to him, ok!
Tim, 5’5 and built like a stick, pale as a drenched sheet of paper, looks like a slight gust could knock him over: *blinks sleepily* oh uh, hi
Titians: ????!!!!!!
Dick, smiling more aggressively: Be. Nice. To. My. Little. Brother.
Tim: *awkward wave* Titians: *wordless horror*
Feelings tonight
Tim: Want to play a game?
Jason: *war flashbacks to knife monopoly* ...okay...?
Tim: It's called 'Jon or katana'. I give you actual quotes from Damian, and you guess if he was talking to his sword or his boyfriend.
Jason:
Jason: Awesome.
I need in my life Tim Drake who does rely on adults but really only one and Bruce is jealous as fuck about it.
"Tim where's your spleen, why haven't you told anyone about this"
"I told Dick what you talking about"
"Tim you played baseball in outerspace why didn't you call for backup?"
"I called Dick"
Why didn't you tell us you were bisexual"
"Dick's known for years? Wym?"
You see my vision Bruce, Alfred, Jack Drake I need these adults pushing for Tim to talk to them or ask for help and this boy to just constantly be like Dick knows, I called Dick, why would I call you.
Dick's sitting pretty knowing everything not surprised by a single fact because if it's the stupidest thing or the most important guess what Tim called him.
The man knows and sees all because Tim heard once that you tell a trusted adult important stuff and well Tim has only ever trusted one.
UnitedHealthcare CEO shooting (4 December 2024)
Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
My ancestors, watching me dump an entire stick of cinnamon, two cloves, an allspice berry, and a generous grating of nutmeg into my tea, sweetened with white sugar and loaded with cream, while I sit in my clean warm house surrounded by books, 25+ outfits for different occasions, and 6 pairs of shoes, in a building heated so well I have the windows open in mid-autumn:
Our daughter prospers. We are proud of her. She has never labored in a field but knows riches we could not have imagined.
I like this so much better than the idea that our ancestors would be embarrassed or ashamed of us for being “soft” or some crap like that.
My ancestors, watching me stuff my face with fried chicken while studying: She eats like an imperial concubine and can afford to study like am imperial scholar. WE MADE IT
She eats like an imperial concubine and can afford to study like am imperial scholar
My ancestors watching me use my stand mixer while living in a small apartment and attending university: Thou hast kneadeth bread in FOUR hail marys??? FOUR??? And thou ist poor as a churchmouse, yet liveth in a fine cottage with four pounds butter and fresh berries in thy larder!! And two featherbeds! And thou attendeth the King’s college, as a lord!!
My ancestors being like:
Look at this fine young lady! She can paint she can sew and embrody, she sings and read
And without a wealthy father to pay for that, plus she is florid in the body! She doesn’t know hunger!
We did it!
Me: /wearily studying/
My Ancestors: TRULY SH— what? They? A little unorthodox, but reasonable I suppose. TRULY THEY PROSPER, FOR THEY LIVE IN A DWELLING WITH MANY ROOMS AND ONLY THEIR SPOUSE TO SHARE IT WITH! THEY HAVE DOGS WHO DO NOT PERFORM A FUNCTION! THEY HAVE MANY BOOKS AND DO NOT HAVE TO SPIN THEIR OWN YARN! THEY BATHE AT A WHIM WITH GENTLE SOAP FREE OF LYE! OUR DESCENDANT BRINGS HONOR AND PRIDE TO OUR LINEAGE!
Me: /yawns and sips my coffee/
My Ancestors: /cheer wildly/
Me: *hunched over at my desk nursing a headache.*
My Ancestors: “Truly, we prosper; see here, our infirm descendant need not even work on her poor days, but has the luxury to rest as she sees need! A doctor attends to her illnesses; her clothes are warm and free of pests; she cares for exotic and dangerous animals within her own home! We have found the height of luxury!”
Me: *treats myself to a pineapple and a bunch of bananas*
My Georgian ancestors: ZOOTH SHE HAS BOUGHT A PINEAPPLE! NOT MERELY BORROWED ONE! TRULY SHE HAS ACHIEVED FAR MORE THAN WE COULD KNOW!
me: [puts on warm socks and a blanket, is now warm regardless of the weather outside]
My impoverished Russian Jewish ancestors:
Me: [learns to knit from youtube videos]
My ancestors: Our descendant, the heir to all our hopes and fears for a far-off future… She can buy fine clothes woven and knit by automatons, with but a fraction of a day’s earnings… and she does… she has so much free time to do as she pleases… and she uses some of that time to do what we did.
One woman from rural Poland, who died from smallpox in 1717 CE, a grandmother at 35: I knit roses and peonies into my and my children’s gloves… it wasn’t much extra work to dye the red, once I had already cleaned the wool and spun the yarn, and to knit in the designs… and I wasn’t a gifted knitter but I was a good knitter, and I thought, well, it might not make a difference to how warm the glove is, but it made the children happy and it made me happy. I liked to make things beautiful when I could.
Another woman, a peasant from what’s now France, who died from getting kicked by a mammoth in 8995 BCE: [Patting her on the back] I made my family’s clothes too. Every day my sister and I wove and wove and tended our children. We went out of our way to make the cloth lovely. Not a trace of it remains anywhere on earth now… But it mattered to us. And she might not know our names, or know it was us, but evidently, it matters to her too. She has so much beauty available to her, in every direction, and she wants to make it where we once made it.
[everyone sobbing and high-fiving each other.]
A man from Britain, 1104 CE, sitting at the trans-temporal telescope, reporting on my doings: She’s stopped knitting and now she’s playing minecraft.
The other ancestors: Ah, yes, the dream of building. We know this one well. What vision doth she design now?
Telescope man: Looks like… Some kind of floating temple?
Everyone: [Goes completely apeshit]
Me: studying Marine Biology, out in the middle of the Elkhorn slough absolutely fucking covered in the most foul-smelling mud and swamp scum you can imagine, deliriously happy as I spot a tell-tale bubbling in the mud. I jump off the small dock and drive my entire arm into the mud like a Mortal Kombat Character ripping someone’s heart out of their chest, and pull out a 4lb, two-foot long Geoduck Clam and hold it aloft, triumphant.
My Homminid ancestors, who were doing exactly this with much smaller clams 900,000 years ago: *going absolutely literally apeshit over my flawless technique and the marvelous size of my quarry* CLAM! CLAM! CLAM! CLAM! CLAM! CLAM! CLAM! WHOOOOOOOOO!!!!
OH MY! I love this.
9-8-23
me, sewing
my 19th-century ancestors: wait wait she knows sewing AND dressmaking AND corset-making, and she picked up the skills without even an apprenticeship? she taught HERSELF from books, and the wisdom of a hundred teachers in a moving-picture device that she OWNS? nice.
me, picking apart crumbling antique garments because the buttons and trim are still intact
my 19th-century ancestors: SHE IS THRIFTY AND DISCERNING. HER WARDROBE WILL NEVER BE MARRED BY FADDISHNESS OR WASTE. THAT’S OUR GIRL. YES. YESSSSSS
obsessed with like, Jason who absolutely refuses to reconcile with the bats. he wants no part in that family and will not talk to them under any circumstances. but he's legally dead with no friends and sometimes he gets sick of being completely by himself and wants to have company. so.
Bruce: hey Alfred have you seen my-
*comes into kitchen to see Alfred calmly preparing dinner while Jason Todd, Killer Red Hood, silently does paperwork while sat on the corner of the kitchen counter*
Bruce:
Bruce: uh-
Tim, doing homework at the table: don't mention it. if you acknowledge him he'll leave. he just likes being around people sometimes.
the bats have to start treating him like a stray cat, letting him go to them and acting completely unbothered by his presence because if they even make eye contact with Jason he'll jump out the window and they 1. won't see him for a month and 2. will start to see a lot more murders cropping up around gotham.
eventually it gets to the point where Dick will come to dinner to see the rest of the family wordlessly ignoring the brick shithouse of a man who is just sat on the floor of the dining area reading a book and he has to just. take a breath and pretend Jason isn't there. calmly stepping around him without acknowledging him. Alfred will silently place a plate of food by the guys elbow while speaking to Damian about school. When they decide to move from the table to the tv room for a movie night none of them can even look around when they hear him eventually follow just to sit in the corner of this room instead.
Bruce: I'm concerned, this is abnormal for Jason. what if he's been drugged with something? or he's trying to gain sensitive information?
Damian: actually he used to do this a lot after he came out of the Lazarus pit. he liked to sit in and watch me train, and occasionally we'd find him sat by grandfathers feet while he ran meetings. Mother says it's important to let him settle, because it's likely that he's simply craving human intimacy on his own terms for once.
Bruce, crying: oh
Jason still refuses to say a word to any of them unless it's in costume, and even then it's the same old 'i'm not your son! i'm not one of you! fuck off!' shtick like normal. they just have to accept him sneaking into the house every now and then too.
one time Tim needs Red Hoods info on a case he's working and since Jason's been sat on the floor against the wall of the bat cave for the past 45 minutes just. staring into space and vibing. he risks sliding the file across the floor towards him before pointedly turning back to the batcomputer, the info he needs marked clearly. five minutes later it's wordlessly slid back, info filled out and Jason refusing to acknowledge Tim's existence again. it's the only way he'll communicate with them.
after a while it gets to the point where Jason will straight up go to bludhaven and break into Dicks apartment just to silently sit in the corner of the room and Be Around A Familiar Person. Tim comes back from his lunch brake at WE to find him sat on the edge of his desk, working through a case. They work in silence for the rest of the day and when Tim leaves Jason just follows. They get a batburger together but the second Tim slips up and asks how his day was he's off like a shot. Damian regularly eats lunch at school on the roof while Jason plays mario kart on a DSI next to him. Batman will be 4 hours into a solo stake out when civilian Jason will silently slide up next to him with a crossword. they never talk. Jason still makes it clear that he's pissed at Bruce. Bruce doesn't know what else to do but let him be and hope eventually, with enough time, things will progress even further.
Dick, whispering so Jason won't pick up on the fact that he's being perceived: are you sure this is normal
Damian: is anything about any of us normal
Tim: he's got a point. at least we know Jason's watching us. I did this shit all the time before I was Robin, and none of you ever noticed me.
Dick:
Tim: sometimes its comforting to be in the same room as people you're familiar with, even if you can't handle interacting with them.
Dick, crying: ok
Adhd body doubling on steroids