Turtle lock its a turtle lock y'all!

This is a magic item of some kind

TWO HOURS AGO: an incredible photo taken by a ut austin student capturing something deeply poetic in my opinion, a line of state troopers eagerly waiting to arrest student protesters standing just behind a sign that reads "what starts here changes the world. its starts with you and what you do each day."

'you still listen to music from 10 years ago 🤨?' bitch if prehistoric humans had audio recording technology id be sat up here listening to grog and unga bunga's greatest hits don't play with me

For the last time: Mary Shelley and Lord Byron were friends. She didn't hate him. His death was a very painful loss to her. She didn't write Frankenstein because she was stuck in a house with him and he was an unbearable person. For God's sake, just read her journals and letters.

Also, Mary Shelley's journal entry about his death might be one of the saddest things I've ever read:

May 15.—This then was the coming event that cast its shadow on my last night’s miserable thoughts. Byron had become one of the people of the grave—that miserable conclave to which the beings I best loved belong. I knew him in the bright days of youth, when neither care nor fear had visited me—before death had made me feel my mortality, and the earth was the scene of my hopes. Can I forget our evening visits to Diodati? our excursions on the lake, when he sang the Tyrolese Hymn, and his voice was harmonised with winds and waves. Can I forget his attentions and consolations to me during my deepest misery?—Never.

Beauty sat on his countenance and power beamed from his eye. His faults being, for the most part, weaknesses, induced one readily to pardon them.

Albé—the dear, capricious, fascinating Albé—has left this desert world! God grant I may die young! A new race is springing about me. At the age of twenty-six I am in the condition of an aged person. All my old friends are gone, I have no wish to form new. I cling to the few remaining; but they slide away, and my heart fails when I think by how few ties I hold to the world. “Life is the desert and the solitude—how populous the grave”—and that region—to the dearer and best beloved beings which it has torn from me, now adds that resplendent spirit whose departure leaves the dull earth dark as midnight.

Thank you! God, I see this all the time- people, Mary didn't hate Byron just because you want her to have! In fact, she was probably one of the very few people he was ever a good person to! He is the one who made sure she got Percy's heart when Percy's girlfriend wanted to take it!

The point of fiction is actually to put that guy in a situation™️, and he might try to tell you the point is to then get him out of the situation, WRONG, second situation

had an au thought and ran with it o/

Investigating where cashmere comes from

English added by me :)

Also, since it frequently gets commented on in other posts: the choice of bgm is because Jingle Bell Rock doesn't necessarily have the same cultural significance in China (or at least not to OP) so it's not particularly recognized as a holiday/winter song

this man is so important to me. he is out there living his best life, loving what he does, getting screamed at by medium sized herd mammals, and educating the world about small but fun and important things.

thank you, OP, so much for the translations!

I also love how you can really see the difference between the lamb and the baby goat. The goat screams, the lamb is so calm

do you all remember in the early 2010s where people were talking about freeing the nipple and that mixed-gender sports should become a thing and the removal of period tax and all of that and then some people realised that would mean trans people too ans they instantly decided to revert to bioessentialism 101 and now i have to see grating sentences like Well maybe jeopardy should be gender-segregated because males have a biological advantage in pressing a button

[ID: Photos of a painted clay sculpture of a horse modelled to look like horses from prehistoric cave art. The head, mane, dorsal stripe, two shoulder stripes, and lower legs are black. The main body is yellow ochre, then white on the chest, belly, and upper legs, wrapping around the body. Each colour is solid and does not blend into the other. Each photo shows a different angle. End ID]

Pretty happy with how this turned out!

[ID Photos of a small painted clay sculpture of a horse with simplified features with short pointed legs, small rounded tail, and in a standing pose with an arched neck. It is painted to look like prehistoric cave art. Each photo shows a different angle. End ID]

Insult to injury

I am once again thinking about digging holes

It's so fucked up that digging a bunch of holes works so well at reversing desertification

I hate that so much discourse into fighting climate change is talking about bioenginerring a special kind of seaweed that removes microplastics or whatever other venture-capital-viable startup idea when we have known for forever about shit like digging crescent shaped holes to catch rainwater and turning barren land hospitable

[id: two images of half-circle holes dug in the desert. one is done in an orange desert and the other has a bunch of green grass growing over the holes. end id]

my friend took in a stray and she’s the cutest kitty ever but he named her oil so whenever he sends a picture of her me and my other friends look like we’re roleplaying as the US military

in our defense this is oil

this past sunday, our sweet perfect beautiful oil left us unexpectedly. her time with us all was brief but she waited until the second 4/20 was over to go so she at least died as she lived--iconic and so so loved. she remains the only cat to be tumblr famous for her whole life and no other kitty is more deserving of that

rest easy sweet girl, all 200k of your loyal frackers will miss you so much