you will ALWAYS catch me being pathetic on tumblr.com
will byers stan first human second
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2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

roma★

oozey mess

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let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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$LAYYYTER
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Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

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@caelestis-kid
you will ALWAYS catch me being pathetic on tumblr.com
doing this horrible thing to myself known as fitting in a full semester load of work into two days of class a week. i think the first month will hurt. then when my internship finishes i will be free
devious thought that i could totally write an ethnography on the place im working at…ohhh…university…how dare you equip me with these skills!!
21st century and some men still not even having first wave feminist takes. they hella limited…guys….we have 3 iterations of feminism now. keep up!!
my manager complaining that the women who make it in this industry are incredibly intense and “hard to work with” as if these men don’t take women who don’t act this way seriously.
21st century and some men still not even having first wave feminist takes. they hella limited…guys….we have 3 iterations of feminism now. keep up!!
Ocean Vuong, from “Someday I’ll Love Ocean Vuong”, Night Sky with Exit Wounds
on some “devious gas” ie my belly hurt, 30s long farts ONLY upon standing, no shitting, and my belly hurt.
Marie Howe, from “Memorial”, What the Living Do
my head hurtssss and i’ve cried four out of five days this week. we’re fighting, i guess, and it stresses me out. i’ve barely slept; and even when i do, it’s sticky, heavy; anxious. suffering is strength. suffering is what i deserve.
i petted a TWO cats for the first time!! they were so lovely, calm and soft…the sweetest ever
don’t really know why i’m supposed to be excited or interested in the oil industry like. it’s okay. it’s a job. i wanted to see what people in diff jobs do. before i commit to anything.
i know i made the hugely popular disparaging oil extraction rate wallpaper two years ago ago. i am disappointed to announce that im interning as an oil trader right now.
good morning & 180 listens on an almost 10 minute song. I used to listen to for sure every night to fall asleep in my first year at university. i was so anxious all the time and this song would lull me into the depths of sleep.
also hello summer break 💗 went to the club last night; sweet house mix then berlin techno; superrr fun i was so happy :33 we did get raided by the police but alllll good and the party started again after 5 min 😋😋
cleared out dorm room with nothing - just my suit drying on the makeshift drying rack : a cleaning pole duct taped to my bookshelf & closet, across the room - the aircon running full blast, finishing the last $6 put in five months ago, desperately; and i put the bedsheet back on the naked plastic-covered bed, let you lie next to me. it's thirty two degrees outside, raging with humidity, sweat in the crease of bent knee; my stomach's full of bahn mi, iced coffee lingering on my/your tongue; and skin2skin because i'll only see you in a week; and i haven't touched you in two. there's this game we play (and everyone plays it), of sitting around when the outcome's clear. You didn't have to carry my bag back. the suffering was meant for me. But you did anyway. And so love is in my bahn mi, my coffee, on the bedsheets, my hands, the too-heavy duffel and in the sweat that runs down your cheek; the text that i'm on the way home, the scent of your skin on mine/mine on yours. love is a choice after a choice after a choice. love is the mundane.
read this midway through a camp when the one bar of mobile data couldn’t load anything but text: i miss you i miss you i miss you
rare aesthetic: almost double calf cramping while walking to class ❤️
cleared out dorm room with nothing - just my suit drying on the makeshift drying rack : a cleaning pole duct taped to my bookshelf & closet, across the room - the aircon running full blast, finishing the last $6 put in five months ago, desperately; and i put the bedsheet back on the naked plastic-covered bed, let you lie next to me. it's thirty two degrees outside, raging with humidity, sweat in the crease of bent knee; my stomach's full of bahn mi, iced coffee lingering on my/your tongue; and skin2skin because i'll only see you in a week; and i haven't touched you in two. there's this game we play (and everyone plays it), of sitting around when the outcome's clear. You didn't have to carry my bag back. the suffering was meant for me. But you did anyway. And so love is in my bahn mi, my coffee, on the bedsheets, my hands, the too-heavy duffel and in the sweat that runs down your cheek; the text that i'm on the way home, the scent of your skin on mine/mine on yours. love is a choice after a choice after a choice. love is the mundane.