Monterey Bay Aquarium
Three Goblin Art
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
JVL
PR's Tumblrdome
todays bird
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Kaledo Art
Kiana Khansmith
JBB: An Artblog!
we're not kids anymore.
ellievsbear
Cosimo Galluzzi
Sade Olutola
shark vs the universe
hello vonnie
NASA
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
will byers stan first human second
seen from United States
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@gordoncoopertracy
Next up, tiny dragon based on Thunderbird 4! This one was a real challenge for some reason. Took two attempts at the original sketch, and I’ve been messing with the colours for ages. I’m not really used to working with yellow (or any very heavily saturated colour, tbh)
Miniature dragon loosely based on thunderbird 5, at last!
And now, a miniature dragon loosely based on tb2!
Miniature dragon loosely based on thunderbird 3 because my goodness I love drawing miniature dragons based loosely on things
I demand a Thunderbirds are Go! How to Train your Dragon Crossover!
We shall call them Thunder-Dragons!
like this?
what song comes to your mind when you hear the word “tonight”
Another Jefferfact… according to the 2065 timeline, he’s a Zoomer
Thunderbirds are low-key go. No cap.
Not Sigma Dad
Thunderbirds 1956 - inspired by Alphonse Mucha
[Also available on Redbubble] ❤️
(Not posted in ages, just an update to say my intensive indoctrination programme has been a runaway success)
Heyo, Thunderfam/TAG fandom, have we figured out or collectively decided where the Grand Roca Ranch is yet? Because the wiki isn't helpful and I was under the impression it was in Kansas or like the middle of the U.S. somewhere. Just like desert, I guess? I need this information for like one line in a fic I'm working on XD.
From the notes, it doesn’t look like anyone has thrown the wildcard in there - perhaps Grand Roca isn’t in America but could be in Australia? Perhaps Lucy’s family emigrated to Kansas at some point 🤷🏻♀️
Scribs my only offshore with this theory is that. Nobody here would use the word ranch to describe it. Unless they were already American transplants, who then moved back at some point?
How we weigh an octopus!
put the octopus in the basket
put the octopus in the basket
put the octopus in the basket
weigh the bas--
put the octopus in the basket
weigh the basket
put the octopus in the water
treat!
online communities are so strange because people slip away so easily. you can be on here for years, folding people you've never met into the fabric of your daily life, and then they disappear, leaving only ghost posts scattered across tumblr behind. or their blog stays dormant, for weeks, months, years, until you're only still following them because you remember that they love sunflowers or they were kind to you when they didn't have to be or the last thing they posted was sad and raw and you still worry about them sometimes.
and sometimes they come back when you least expect it, years later, even, and there's this sudden rush of relief like there you are, there you are, even though you barely knew each other.
there's a strange kind of love to it. i don't know you and i want to hold your hand across miles and time zones and oceans. i can still see the imprint of you in this community you left. you don't think anyone will notice or care when you're gone, but we notice and we care and we wish you well.
i hope you're all okay out there. i hope the sun is shining on your face and you are breathing deeply. i miss you.
Beautiful gorgeous creature of the day is a friendly squid
So, listen, I'm not usually the "did a squid write this" guy, but this article is about how these massive predators aren't dangerous and also aren't very nutritious, so I really gotta wonder about this one
Ocean announcement:
dont worry about it
Squid is made for hugging. Let squid hug baby, tentacled good for hug baby…
Everybody shut the HECK up and look at this
S H O R K
big and round shark
*slaps shork* this bad boy can hold so many remoras
for those wondering, she was/is 2.5x the size of the average bullshark.
bull sharks are usually 250lbs. she was around 600.
she was also a complete diva
Pen and Ink, 8 and 26?
8) Who likes to wear the others sweatshirts?
Penelope has a $2800 sweater which has been stretched into unwearability by Gordon’s Olympic Gold Medalist shoulders, because it’s cold in that drafty old manor and he just grabbed the first thing he could find that was soft and warm, with very little regard to the fact that it was also a very petite lady’s favourite pink cashmere v-neck sweater. He gave her a replacement in the form of his favourite sweater, but this is a Cal-tech hoodie from his alma mater, and ranks rather lower as far as pure fashion is considered, and is only worth about a tenth of the price. She still secretly sort of likes it, though.
26) Who kissed first?
I have actually written both sides of this particular scene, in two very different scenarios, and because I am shameless I will just copy both here:
Her silence stretches the moments between them, so it seems like longer than it really is before he clears his throat and says, softly, “Hey. Penny?”
She realizes just a fraction of an instant too late why he wants her to look up again, because they’ve been here before. She’s been at the edge of an abyss, at the end of the line, and helpless and hopeless and with no one else to turn to but him. Both times this has happened before, it’s been because she’s put him in danger, dragged him along behind her and into trouble. There’s a pattern here, and this is predictable.
So it’s not a surprise when he kisses her.
Part of her expects it; knows that he’s just picking up the latter half of something abbreviated, a long ago moment between them. Months and months back, and she still remembers the way he’d taken her hand when she’d turned towards him, and the words now or never. Only it hadn’t been then, and it certainly hasn’t been never, because she’s kissed him twice now, and the second time not even twenty-four hours ago. He’s only evening the score.
And it’s awful how badly she just wants to give in. To let the tension fall away, the rigidity of her shoulders, her spine—to turn inward and allow herself just to be held, because she knows more than anything else that he’d hold her, that he wants to. He never seems to have the slightest difficulty sorting out what he wants to do from what he should do. He’s done this because he loves her, is in love with her, and he kisses her like that’s just the only thing he wants in the entire world; just to be in love with her. His hand has come to rest against the curve of her neck, she can feel his thumb brush the point of her pulse, and she wonders if he’s cheating, gauging her heart rate to measure her response. It’s what she’d do.
AND
If ever in future anyone were to ask Penelope about the moment she’d fallen in love with him, it wouldn’t be this moment that she pointed to. Her answer will have the benefit of hindsight, and she’ll point to an array of moments that could’ve fallen anywhere along the continuum of their long acquaintance. Moments when she’d fallen in love with the touch of his hands or the light in his eyes; the way he smiles and the way he makes a hobby of being kind to her. With each and every one of those hundreds of tiny changes; the work of moments that she’s watched happen slowly, over the course of time. This isn’t the moment she falls in love with him.
But this is the moment when she realizes just how long he’s been in love with her.
It’s a strange thing to know, especially as wholly and completely as she suddenly seems to know it. Sitting beside him beneath a staircase, after a day like today, a day so different from the days they usually spend together—realizing that it’s not the silly, childish crush she’s always assumed it was. And it seems like such an enormous, obvious truth, yet it’s hard to know how to react. Penelope doesn’t feel frozen exactly, so much as she feels some essential part of her has stilled, and grown suddenly calm and tranquil, in the presence of something very important.
He’ll remember what she does next for the rest of his life, and so it’s very important that she does it slowly and carefully, with absolutely no ambiguity about her intent. Gordon’s hands are still anxiously occupied by the champagne bottle he’s been toying with, and Penelope reaches over to take it from him, sets it gently on the floor between their feet. One of her knees presses against his as she shifts to sit closer, takes his hand in hers, and threads her fingers between the spaces between his.
And, well. She’s probably had just enough champagne for this to be a viable course of action.
She finds she quite likes the way that, even sitting, she needs to turn her face upwards to press her lips against his jaw.
Shit is bad, but today, I learned that California's kelp forests have made a major comeback with the help of scientists, fishermen, and hammer wielding volunteers.
It's a win for habitat restoration. It's a win for marine life. It's a win for all of the people who helped make it happen.
It's a fucking win and it makes me happier than words can describe.
Pollution, warm oceans and hungry urchins devastated Pacific kelp. Now, thanks to divers with hammers, one of the world’s most successful re
Edit: now with video and link.
Fish: THE WEIRD THING THAT OPENS URCHINS IS HERE!!!!
guess i go here now
