Sweet cat rescued from the streets of Brooklyn, NY. (via flatbushcats)
Oh, the differns in his eyes..
almost home

JVL
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

Kiana Khansmith
trying on a metaphor

pixel skylines
Mike Driver
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

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izzy's playlists!
occasionally subtle

★
YOU ARE THE REASON

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
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2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Sade Olutola
No title available
Stranger Things
Peter Solarz
seen from Germany
seen from Guatemala

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from France

seen from Brazil

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Belgium

seen from Sweden
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Germany
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Türkiye
seen from Germany
@depressiveprozac
Sweet cat rescued from the streets of Brooklyn, NY. (via flatbushcats)
Oh, the differns in his eyes..
harold, they’re lesbians
people are gay, steven
i’m a lesbian, carl
don’t be a transphobe, chad
we support the gays, david
i’m not jealous, flavio. i’m gay
ah, the extended edition
I’m right and I should say it
Wait. How are peoples with siblings greeting eachother then?
“Hey”
“Hey”
“Hey Dork.”
“I am not a dork.”
“Yes you are. And mom wants to talk to you.”
“Whats up buttholes”
“Shut up Loser”
“Hey maaaan”
“Hey maaaaan”
Or
“Hey stoop-stoops”
“No”
“Who are you?”
“Hey shithead”
“Hey dickface”
“Whaddup slut”
*Hey ‘name of sibling’* *Get out of my room*
“Hey nerd” “What do you want”
“Sup bitch”
“Fuck off”
*steps into the room and stares at them until they notice and stare back for a solid 15 seconds, neither of you move a muscle*
“what”
“what do you want for dinner”
That last one!!!
Passing each other in a corridor/when entering or exiting a room/in the stairs/wherever:
*drops into battle-poses and makes pterodactyl screeches while fake-swinging and kicking at each other before continuing on as if nothing happened*
-pass by each other, make eye contact, narrow eyes and glare at each other in silence for about 10 seconds before continuing on your path-
“hey nerd”
“s'up, Chewbacca”
also always overcome with the urge to immediately end the other when in their presence.
That’s it that’s having siblings. 24/7.
november is the thursday of months
november is like if you took october and december but instead of adding them together you subtracted them from each other
I have no idea what this means but I know it’s true on a gut level
water is the only element that puts the fear of god into me
A cook in a Sikh kitchen cooking curry in an extremely large pot. The Sikh kitchen provides tens of thousands of free meals on a daily basis
It`s called a langar and everyone, no matter what your religion, caste, race, age, gender, etc, is invited to come eat. Only vegetarian food is served, so regardless of dietary restrictions, anyone can eat. It was started by the first Sikh Guru, Guru Nanak. Langar was designed to uphold the principle of equality between all people. ~Gurneet
I have a lot of respect for the Punjabi institution of the Sikh Langar. Tens of thousands of people of all backgrounds have been fed good, fresh, complete meals every day for five hundred years, made entirely by volunteers, without a penny changing hands. Imagine that, making a serious, large-scale, sustained effort to feed people simply because people need to be fed.
That’s it, the Professor is truly the King of Sass
The letter didn’t come from the Nazi party, but from the publishing house which had expressed an interest in the German translation of The Hobbit. Tolkien’s response really is a thing of beauty, though, so it deserves to be quoted in its entirety:
25 July 1938 20 Northmoor Road, Oxford
Dear Sirs,
Thank you for your letter. … I regret that I am not clear as to what you intend by arisch. I am not of Aryan extraction: that is Indo-iranian; as far as I am aware none of my ancestors spoke Hindustani, Persian, Gypsy, or any related dialects. But if I am to understand that you are enquiring whether I am of Jewish origin, I can only reply that I regret that I appear to have no ancestors of that gifted people. My great-great-grandfather came to England in the eighteenth century from Germany: the main part of my descent is therefore purely English, and I am an English subject - which should be sufficient. I have been accustomed, nonetheless, to regard my German name with pride, and continued to do so throughout the period of the late regrettable war, in which I served in the English army. I cannot, however, forbear to comment that if impertinent and irrelevant inquiries of this sort are to become the rule in matters of literature, then the time is not far distant when a German name will no longer be a source of pride.
Your enquiry is doubtless made in order to comply with the laws of your own country, but that this should be held to apply to the subjects of another state would be improper, even if it had (as it has not) any bearings whatsoever on the merits of my work or its suitability for publication, of which you appear to have satisfied yourselves without reference to my Abstammung.
I trust you will find this reply satisfactory, and remain yours faithfully
J.R.R. Tolkien.
(Letter 30)
The Hobbit wasn’t published in German until 1957.
This might just be the politest “fuck you” ever written.
W.h.a.t.
Not just “I wish I had Jewish ancestors, but I don’t,” but also “you do realize that’s not what ‘Aryan’ actually means, right,” and “you guys are making it pretty hard to be proud of my German heritage.”
Nazis: Are you Aryan?
Noted linguistics freak Tolkien: Are you?
That’s not one elegant fuck you, that’s three in a row. I aspire to write such a thing one day.
Hey. Anyone know why my 3 year old just told me that her shoes were “bitchin” ??
assuming that the shoes were bitchin
remember when jared leto absolutely terrorized his suicide squad castmates and turned himself into a laughing stock bc he misinterpreted what method acting is, only to have 7 minutes of screen time and be cut from most of the film’s promotional material? i know it was a while ago now but i dnt think anything more satisfying will happen in our lifetime
ok but the full extent of margot robbie’s vindication is frankly legendary. she wanted a better chance to relish her role as Harley so, like an absolute icon, she went to warner brothers and pitched a movie to then. now we’re getting an r rated girl gang movie about harley getting out of her shitty relationship w/ joker and going on a chaotic ass roadtrip with a bunch of other female heroes. it’s going to be the first superhero movie directed by a woman of color and there are multiple major characters of color, including a Latina lesbian. can you believe margot robbie obliterated jared leto’s tired ass joker with one fell swoop?
and two really important updates: 1. all planned future appearances of Jared Leto as the joker (Joker solo movie, Joker/Harley movie, etc) have been indefinitely tabled, including his planned appearances in the Suicide Squad sequel, where he’s pretty much the only cast member of the first movie not returning 2. The Joker is confirmed to have a cameo in Margot’s Birds of Prey movie (likely for the scene where she leaves him). They’ve opted to use a body double for the part rather than inviting Leto to reprise his role
opted to use a body double
i’m crying
Leto is a bit busy running a cult on an island so I say everyone dodged a bullet by not asking him back
he’s doing a what now
I WISH I was kidding
Took me a long ass time to understand this.
*cranks up Pacific Rim soundtrack*
[ID: A large chalkboard in a very large indoor space, possibly a gym, that reads, “exercise is a celebration of what you can do, not a punishment for what you ate.” End ID]
So I used to be a martial artist
I started going to the dojo when I was in sixth grade. It was a very masculine environment; there weren’t a lot of other girls there but the male senseis who ran the place were great guys and they genuinely loved having female students because we were such a rarity.
Now back in sixth grade I was tinier even than what I am now, and now I’m only 5’2. Then I was probably even under 5’0. I mean I was a squirt of a kid. But I loved to fight; I loved to be in the ring, I loved the adrenaline rush and I loved having punches hurled at me. It was fun for me. Our dojo did full-contact sparring, which was pretty brutal. These were the only rules:
you must wear a mouth guard and gloves
no hits below the belt
That’s pretty much it.
Anyway every Thursday was Fight Night, where all we did was spar each other. And on my First Night Sensei Diven—who has since passed, bless his soul—paired me up with this really cocky and assholish brown belt to show me the ropes a little. This brown belt kid was bigger than me by a lot; he must have been at least six feet and twice my weight. But man was I excited to get into the ring! I had a fight boiling in my blood.
Now, Sensei Diven was not a stupid man and he hated high-ranking kids that showed a bad attitude. This kid had a bad attitude. So he must have seen the evil gleam in my eye from a mile away and decided it was time for a little improvisation.
Anyway, Sensei yelled, “Start!” and I leapt into fight stance and the other kid didn’t even put his hands up. He was laughing at me, sneering, the whole nine yards. “I’ll give you a free one.” he joked, and he slapped his side. “You barely weigh 100 pounds and you’re a girl. So go ahead, little girl. Hit me.”
And I hit him. I cocked my leg up as high as it would go and roundhouse kicked him right in the ribs with all of my might and all of the contempt I felt for his stupid cocky face which was covered in ugly-ass freckles and his nasty-ass braces. And I heard a crack. Like a real snap! sound. And the kid has a look of surprise on his face like it was nobody’s business, and then he goes right to the floor like a sack of potatoes.
Now, Sensei Diven leisurely strolls over from the group of black belts who are laughing their asses off at me, the tiny little white belt, sending my Goliath to the floor. I mean they’re laughing so hard they look like they’re about to pee themselves. They think it’s a game. And in his great booming voice he hollers:
“Brown Belt! Why are you on the floor? Do you not see this white belt has been assigned to fight you?”
And meanwhile he is just crying. I broke one of his ribs.
And Sensei Diven just squats down next to this poor kid and whispers, “Don’t you know that women are made of pain?”
I AM SCREAMING.
Once a superhero, always a superhero.