meow meow meow @flammedoudoune - Tumblr Blog

It’s not the biggest issue with AI but I also resent that it’s ruining Cute Animals On The Internet, a thing the internet has been fantastic at since basically its inception. I miss my ability to trust and fuck you for taking that from me.

#ugh #we can't have nice things

deadpowol

cheaphalloweencostume

the idea that a sex scene in fiction is fundamentally useless/simply for audience titillation UNLESS they’re fucking infodumping exposition while they bone or something is so funny and myopic to me. like, you really genuinely believe for real that there is NOTHING to be gained about your understanding of a story or characters simply from how they approach and engage in sex? really for real?

cheaphalloweencostume

i'm not convinced that art only has something to offer us when we personally want to participate in the activities being depicted

prokopetz

"It doesn't help your credibility to exaggerate, most employers wouldn't literally work you to death" like, I used to work in distribution. If booking a truck driver for back to back shifts until they fall asleep at the wheel, crash, and die counts as being worked to death, I have personally met employers who've worked employees to death and gotten away with a slap on the wrist. It may not be universal, but it's a hell of a lot more common than a lot of us would prefer to think.

simplysnaps

Death by spreadsheet is an acceptable degree of separation for most in middle management. They can sleep at night without guilt for what they've done, because the system charitably setup twelve degrees of separation between their choices and the real-world harm. But do not be fooled, their choices set that harm into motion. Without their reckless disregard for human life, the harm would not be done.

I used to work at a TV station in Ohio. On weekends, we only had an 11pm news broadcast. Not much happened on weekends, ya know? I worked Monday-Friday 9-5, but someone on the weekend shift quit, so I also had to come in at 9pm on Sat/Sun to work the 11pm news. It was brutal. I worked seven days a week, even if two of them were ~3hrs.

This was a particularly bad winter. One Saturday, we had a level 2 snow emergency: That means you should only travel if you absolutely must. Like, it's not uncommon for cops to pull you over in level 2 emergencies to ask where you're going and why. It is genuinely dangerous to drive in that much snow.

I told my boss as much, how I almost crashed on the way home at 12:30am after a news broadcast. I told him I would need to call off if there were a snow emergency again during a night snow.

He told me, point blank, "If you ever call me about the goddamn snow, I will take it as a call of resignation."

And that was that! The very next Saturday, snow fell again. It was a level 2, but would become level 3 by sunup. Level 3 means driving is literally illegal except for ambulances and snow plows. I stared out the window, watching the snow, and I had to make a choice.

"Will I die for this? Will I kill myself to keep this job?" I made $11/hr.

Yes, managers work you to death. That's their job.

aspiringsorceress

Every single labor protection is written in the blood of those who were literally worked to death, and business owners and profiteers would claw those protections back with glee if they could. They will squeeze every red cent from your body if they are allowed, and write off your death for an insurance payout that they'll try to pocket for themselves while hiring your replacement for half the pay they gave to you.

hylianane

functionally suicidal character saying “I would die for you” to their significant other and its like. I get the sentiment, honey, but if a hot dog vendor told me he’d sell hot dogs for me, I wouldn’t feel very moved now would I

maseratus

Now a functionally suicidal character saying “I will live for you”. Now that’s a dynamic I can sink my teeth into.

mousidy

now how about a functionally suicidal character saying "I will sell hot dogs for you"

mousidy

bisthefairy

Hotdog vender lays down their life to protect their suicidal partner, who then takes over the hotdog stand to carry on their memory...

kink-tomato

#aled.#clamp

faeurchin

she really likes jewelry

#art

helenvaughans

schibborasso

Impregnated Goblin - Vintage Matchbox Label by sweden manufacter

#sure

simplyghosting

Me, pointing to the mirror: Do NOT become The Joker about this. This isn’t even a Condiment Man situation.

oatmealdiva

t’es woke toi 😦🫵 toi t’es un woke left😔🙄 tu supporte les trans pis les pronoms toi 🤨🏳️‍⚧️ veux-tu savoir mes pronoms? 🥱🔥 mes pronoms? 😳😤 que/bec. fran/çais. bar/be/que. go/habs/go.🍁🏒 bleu pis rose 💙🌹 toi c’est quoi tes pronoms? vas-y. dis moj tes pronoms?🧐😪 joe/bi/den? ru/paul? 🤭😒 j’vas prier pour toi 🫤🙏

smallpotatoes-dandelions

I don't know how to articulate this well, but I really fucking hate the way a lot of thin writers write fat characters. Like how men write women "breasting boobily" there is something so dehumanizing about how fat characters are often written. "He waddled", "he lumbered", the writer of the book I'm reading always mentions this characters "fleshy hand" when he does something with his hand. Like, we already know that he's fat. There is no need to describe everything he does as "doing it fatly".

sulkybender-retired04042026

*fishes this absolute treasure from the tags*

plumslices

JAR (Joel Arthur Rosenthal) sheep head hair clip

Pearl, sapphire, aluminum, silver, gold

#art

terra-nightgale

OMG I CAN HAZ TUMBLR

so yea, i made a blog and now i need to post stuff XD

flareonfloof

omg finally

terra-nightgale

i’m going to blow up everything forever.

lessrthanthree

witnessings

happy last day of pride to the gay snails who hug and kiss for hours without mating

brick3621

42starsintheuniverse

When Grace dies he asks for his body to be turned to ashes, and then into a statue. The statue has him sitting, legs crossed, arms curled slightly, with his palms on his knees. He says in his final message there is a reason for this very specific positioning, but that he can't say what it is.

Time continues forward. Rocky and Adrian grow and change. They move house a couple of times. Rocky changes career from engineer, to inventor, to scientist, to diplomat, to teacher. Adrian picks up a new hobby every few decades. They explore other parts of Erid they've never seen. They meet humans on more than one occasion, but there's something about it... Something not quite right. The Eridian mind can never forget, and no matter how much time passes, Rocky feels it. Missing Grace. His human.

And then time really does move on. Rocky walks stiffly, Adrian sleeps for weeks at a time, they both eat less often due to how draining it is.

And one day, the temperature is perfect. Adrian wakes earlier than they have in years. The warmth loosens Rocky's arthritis, the wind is quiet that day, and sound can carry for miles because of it. The soil is quiet, ready, resonant. And they both know.

They go for a walk, take a dip in the sea, attend a choir in a crystal cave. And then, without fanfare, when no one else is around, they visit Grace. And Rocky climbs into his stone lap. And Adrian curls their body around Grace too. Just like Grace did hundreds of years ago, they let go, no scream, no pain, just peace and togetherness. Too beautifully intertwined to ever untangle.

And there they sit, three stones, for the rest of time.

#project hail mary #;_;