aren’t you tired of being gender conforming? don’t you just want to be sexy?
Xuebing Du
Monterey Bay Aquarium

if i look back, i am lost
Today's Document
Three Goblin Art
AnasAbdin

#extradirty
DEAR READER
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
cherry valley forever
sheepfilms
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2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
hello vonnie
Not today Justin
KIROKAZE

izzy's playlists!
Cosmic Funnies
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

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@zeromusicality
aren’t you tired of being gender conforming? don’t you just want to be sexy?

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Ummm she's literally sensitive :/
Yen-Yu Lu
always complain about things. okay, you know how programmers explain their code to rubber ducks when it's not working? same principle. an appliance breaks down. I get pissed off, try everything, go through the various stages of despair etc. I complain about it to a friend and explain why it frustrates me so bad, and suddenly I'm thinking 'wait I should try unplugging it and then doing a factory reset and then—' and I go home and do that and it starts working again. I keep losing my earrings. I complain about it to a friend, about how I keep them all in a little dish but then the specific one I want always dematerialises the moment I want it. my friend says 'I just keep them on the little card backs they came with' and I think well shit, I always throw those out. but then I think aha I can make a bunch of pinholes in a decorative postcard. genius. I read a story. it's about something I'm usually into, but for some reason I don't like this story at all. I complain about it, I figure out what irritates me about it, I have a great idea for a way better story. I try a new recipe, it doesn't come together. I bitch about it like crazy, about what I thought I did right and how it failed, and before I know it I'm explaining out loud which parts I'm inexperienced at or didn't understand or adjusted wrong. I need a little table for drawing on. I complain about it in the group chat, two days later someone says 'hey I spotted the kind of table you're looking for on the side of the road, do you want to come pick it up'. I complain, endlessly. my life is enriched. the art of complaining.
Stephen King’s Fujo
yeah @sunderwight these tags are gold

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Isn’t it kind of fun how when your life sucks you just can’t talk about it with anyone
I’m serious though. When your life reaches a degree of suckage, you find yourself having to look elsewhere for anything at all to talk about. The things going on in your life are trauma dumping. Your past is probably also trauma dumping. So you have to get really weird about specific things or hope that others want to talk to you, because very quickly people are going to develop an aversion to you and the way your life sucks. Unless you just don’t talk about it
It’s socially isolating, which is dangerous—when you’re in this sort of situation, community is the difference between life and death, housing and homelessness.
I think the collective prioritization of comfort first is hurting people in a real and material sense
I need to stop replying to “how do you make friends in your 30s?” threads because all my answers boil down to “you have to want to know people instead of have friends” and I don’t think people wanna hear that
It’s like. People can tell if you don’t really like or connect with them. If you aren’t truly enamored with someone you will have a hard time coming up with activities to do together to deepen the friendship. Because you don’t really like that person that much.
the spectrum of people reacting to a meme in a different language that has cognates with their native language where one end is "THIS CAN'T BE A REAL LANGUAGE BE SERIOUS 😭😭😭" and the opposite end is "humor that transcends language barriers 🤣🤣🤣"
listen to me, this is so so important: you've gotta get used to really giving it your 60% as a default. like don't half-ass it necessarily but try not to go over 70% or so of an ass. you'll feel better and live a happier more fulfilled life, and on the rare occasions where you do need to lock the fuck in you'll be able to pull off bullshit that the sad miserable wretches giving it their 100% can never dream of, because they're busy draining themselves dry and you have energy reserves to spare.

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lediouck
sniles sneetly
12/1/25
As summer is approaching, I’d like to remind everyone that you are not entitled to ask someone to cover up their scars, self inflicted or not. I don’t care if they’re big, I don’t care if they’re noticeable, or purple, or all over their body, or what. You can’t police people’s bodies.
This also goes for my friends with feeding tubes, ostomy bags, central lines and urinary catheters. People are allowed exist in bodies that stray from the expected norm.
The Jovians are giant matter/energy converters. They take in Jupiter's hydrogen-rich atmosphere, separate out the helium by oxidizing it and then electrolyzing it, and perform nuclear fusion within their grapefruit-sized living cells through an as-yet unexplained magnetic process. This generates energy to power the organism by a kind of gamma ray photosynthesis, and allows for the production of the metals needed to make their body function.
Because of the complexity of their cells and their macroscopic size compared to the entire individual--which is only 50 meters across not counting the balloon cell, they are able to link their bodies together and split apart at will using long nerve-dense tendrils.
Jovian collective memory therefore goes back nearly 5 million years, thought by some Jovians to be the earliest time at which Jovians were sapient.
The Jovians developed agriculture 3 million years ago, and have begun to radically affect the evolution of several species. Only in the past few thousands of years, though, have they perfected their magnum opus--organisms which function as giant matter synthesizers.
They had first bred a related clade of balloon-shaped cloud dwellers to be able to link their brains to themselves, and then to use their fusors to secrete heavy elements en masse, so they would not have to generate their own and waste so much energy on doing so.
But now, they have been perfected into giant fabricators, able to assemble almost any structure a Jovian can imagine.
They thought themselves to be alone in the solar system--save for the Sun, the sole other life form known in the system.
That was, until the Galileo Entry Probe.
A meteor shot across the Jovian skies, as they were sometimes known to do. They were so rarely ever captured, being tiny needles in haystacks, but they carried heavy elements, so were valued.
The Jovians used their floating telephone network to transmit information about the meteor's trajectory. A task force of biodrone pilots assembled to rush for the meteor and attempt to capture it for study. They were shocked to find that slowed down much more rapidly than any meteor ever discovered.
When they got close, they figured out why. This was a life form, somehow, using a kind of semi-balloon to slow its descent.
Further study revealed it not to be a huge single cell as previously thought, but a machine of some kind, one assembled out of many crude parts. They found the radio transmitter, and, using the same frequency, broadcast a message to Saturn, the next best planet around which to search for life. When that failed, they transmitted the message to Uranus and Neptune.
They got no response, but the alien machine must have come from Saturn.
One of the biggest projects in recent history had been formed. It would take physicists, engineers, farmers, sociologists, and astronomers many years to realize. But one way or another, the Jovians were going to find their Saturnian sisters.
Escaping the second deepest gravitational well in the solar system wasn't going to be easy. The Jovians built bio-fusion powered pulse rockets and rose out into Low Jovian Orbit, where they built a vast space station--well, vast by our standards.
The team behind the Galileo orbiting spacecraft misinterpreted the pulses as lightning, and the station as an unstable minor moon on the way to breaking up.
They only discovered the Galileo spacecraft too late, while it was on an impact course for Jupiter. It burned up long before anyone could capture it.
In mid-2017, the Jovians arrived at Saturn. Their entry probe revealed nothing to them, their radio pings fell on silent ears.
But there was something there. A moon emitting more energy than it received from the Sun, which seemed to be intelligently changing its trajectory.
And that's exactly what the Cassini spacecraft team observed as well--for though its eyes were much smaller, its target was much, much larger, and much, much brighter.
Cassini was nearly at the end of its mission. But it still had enough fuel to prolong its life. Mission control panicked when they learned the alien craft was on an intercept course.
They got some very incredible views of the approaching craft... then some very out-of-focus views... and then they lost contact altogether.
The Jovians found that it was clearly the same technology as the one that was dropped into Jupiter, and was chocked full of heavy elements, including some unknown ones.
But they saw no evidence of life of any kind on Saturn. So where did the probe come from?
The Jovians turned their attention to the radio signals that were detected from the craft, and searched the solar system for similar radio-bright sources.
It turned out one of the dwarf planets was practically screaming in the radio.
But how could that be? The Jovians studied Earth with their instruments and determined that although it lacked hydrogen in its atmosphere, it was covered in water. Water meant hydrogen, which meant the possibility for life. And there was oxygen in the atmosphere, which did imply something was splitting apart the hydrogen from the oxygen.
And that is why, today, 2026, there is a giant, creepily organic nuclear rocket in orbit around the Earth.
Jovians can't visit Earth safely--the risk of them just exploding is too high, but humans can visit their spacecraft with the right kind of space suit.
Apparently someone got their car stuck on the light rail tracks at Mt. Baker. For those unfamiliar this is 35 feet up in the air
Fun fact! this is likely due to racism. Not the drivers, to be clear, but this is a not-entirely-unsurprising result of systemic racism in the greater Seattle area and the influence it has on infrastructure spending.
I'm a huge proponent of public transit, rail in specific, and I'm very glad that the greater Seattle area is finally starting to see some solid light rail infrastructure sprouting up in the form of the 1 and 2 lines, but that in no way stops me from critiquing the decisions made in planning and implementation.
Light Rail, in it's colloquial form here in the US, is basically always a compromise solution. It's cheaper than subways, can make good use of existing right-of-way around freeways, and can function as a kind of low-capacity commuter rail in the subways while behaving more like a tram or streetcar in downtown areas. It is crucially, however, not a streetcar, nor is it a commuter rail. Streetcars make frequent stops and are optimized for dense areas with lots of traffic. Commuter rails are larger and stop lest frequently, optimized for bringing suburban residents into city centers. Commuter rail should, however, be independent of street traffic so it can travel at higher speeds. For this reason, most of the Link light rail system in seattle is actually not at-grade (street level), but on either elevated or sub-grade track. Downtown, the lightrail actually functions as a low-capacity low-frequency subway system in what used to be the bus tunnel (we don't have time, but yes it was stupid). Everywhere else, it's up on elevated tracks that largely follow the freeway system.
There are three stations, all immediately south of that Mount Baker elevated station, where the Link actually runs at-grade. These stations run through the historic low income immigrant neighborhoods of southeast seattle. Here, the trains are forced to stop at red lights, interact with crossing and left-turning traffic, and even cross through terrifyingly narrow pedestrian islands. They could have built elevated track here, as they did everywhere else, but they didn't. they didn't want to spend the money. I have personally watched light rail cars carrying hundreds of people have to wait two full minutes for cars turning left in front of them, delaying trains so like, 5 people could drive there. Once it reaches the end of this low income immigrant-dominant neighborhood, however, the Link returns to it's above-grade status, with Mount Baker being the first elevated stop. You want to know how this woman, who claims she was misdirected by her GPS, probably ended up here? I would bet anything she tried to make a turn at the intersection just before the stop and got confused. The intersection, for reference, looks like this:
I'm not saying it's an easy mistake to make, but given the number of people who drive through here every day, it's honestly not that surprising that someone, especially someone who is from out of town, or someone who is used to shared streetcar lanes, would eventually make this mistake. When you're dealing with a city of hundreds of thousands of people, it's only a matter of time before a mistake like this happens. but it is only possible for it to happen because of the decisions made in the planning process, and one of those decisions was "we can save money if we make everything worse in that part of town where all the foreign poors live", and so they built the thing at-grade, instead of keeping it elevated like everywhere else.
and yes, those tracks are in the middle of a four lane road, and no, there is no way to get to any of the at-grade stations without crossing at least two lanes of traffic on a very busy avenue. and those tiny little pedestrian islands are not only terrifying to walk on, but a man in a wheelchair was clipped by a passing train car a while back because his chair didn't really fit through the tight turns well and one of his feet was sticking slightly out when the train passed by. This is not a problem at like, any other stops in the Link system. Just here. Just in this neighborhood. And it's a fucking disgrace.
not only was the section of the 1 line built at grade for the purpose of cutting costs, it was directly appealed by a citizens initiative. The Save Our Valley movement (SOV), after not being taken seriously by Sound Transit, sued for race based discrimination and an unfair distribution of public works funding resulting in discriminatory safety hazards, which were argued to be at odds with protections provided by the Civil Rights Act. And guess what. the claims were dismissed anyways. the court dismissed them on grounds that congress could ONLY regulate "intentional discrimination" per the civil rights act and was not authorized to regulate "discriminatory effects", that while the at-grade construction of the light rail line would likely have a disproportionate effect on the minority-dominant area of Rainier Valley, there wasn't any grounds that it was done with racial intent. which, given that the ONLY reason the claims were dismissed was that the discrimination argued couldnt be proven to be intentional, is, ironically, pretty clear evidence of intentional race based discrimination when Sound Transit went ahead with the at grade construction of the Rainier Valley section of Line 1 anyways

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Christian Dior FW 2025
you know when you and that e-girl you fancied actually make it and hook up but you live in different cities and shit. yeah that was chill and dating some sort of girl creature is nice but you know when you’ve endured weeks of “would you love me if i was a lamp🥺🥺” and “please mod my stream please mod my stream please mod my stream” and “spit in my mouth” messages and you go to her place for date weekend and the smell just hits you like a wall when you open the door. homegirl got that reek. that no shower november, that cheap vodka and mcdonalds sweat vibe. That thank god you can’t smell me thru twitch kinda beat and you find her huddled in her cave watching whetever chinese cartoon is on the meme this week and before she gets at you with that “daddy i’m not dirty i’m just based and lainpilled” you drag her scrawny lil ass to the shower. she’s passed grimes and moved onto mud and baby you’re a gas station powerwasher. There’s no use resisting, you’re filled with the concerned rage of a diappointed parent. You ain’t daddy, you’re Father dearest. you hose her down properly but there is challenge waiting. the layers of filth, makeup and grease has formed a waterproof cocoon. girl putting the crusty in crustecean and you need a hammer and a chisel to break open the shell to get at the juicy pale white girlmeat inside. She makes a fuss like an angry cat and threaten to refuse wearing the asuka costume for you ever again, but she eventually drops the hissing and succumbs to the soap and water. Colours you ain’t ever seen before swirls around the drain hole and you just know you have to bleach the shit out of that later. Your creature is reborn as she emerges from the dirt and you remember why you love her. She’s beautiful. Cracked open and freed you dry her off with a towel and kiss her forehead. You cook her dinner after airing out her place and she nearly pukes before once again adjusting to solids. You two talk about how you feel as the evening drags on into the long night. Two humans connecting, breaking bread and caring for eachother. Love wins