Today's Document
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Game of Thrones Daily
d e v o n
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Peter Solarz
Xuebing Du
izzy's playlists!
occasionally subtle
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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
sheepfilms
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
taylor price
titsay
shark vs the universe
cherry valley forever
art blog(derogatory)
trying on a metaphor
seen from Argentina
seen from Malaysia
seen from Germany
seen from Malaysia
seen from India
seen from United Arab Emirates
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from T1
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
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seen from Italy
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@forever-ev
Ev || She/Her || bi || teen
Requests are open
Fic masterlist Guidelines about me Lovely people blog rec emoji anons
Writing tips side blog: @evs-writing-tips
#ask ev 💞 for every ask I get
#Ev writes 📝 for all my fics
Theme song:
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"does Noah Wyle really expect me to watch five seasons of Robby's ~mental health journey~? 🙄"
no, i think he expects you to be normal and choose not to watch the show that's about the main character played by him if you fucking hate him and/or the main character he plays. because literally no one is forcing you to do so
yuna and baby shane 🐞
irina and ilyusha 🤍
Not sure why it's a new trend among fic readers to assume if the fic has not been posted within the week it's inappropriate to comment on it, like the fic has to be hot out of the oven to give feedback for.
I got a comment on a fic that is less than a year old and it was mostly an apology for being a comment on an "old fic" and how late they were in commenting.
Just comment on the fic. Doesn't matter how old it is.
Fandom is not social media.
Fandom is not trends.
Fandom is a cross between a library and having a slumber party with your friends.
"Old" means nothing to fic.
horror movie showing a child’s drawing of the monster or ghost or whatever but instead of a little kid and crayons they’re like a preteen and it’s manga style
I love your precious heart
Just a fluffy little tasm!Peter x gf reader blurb because I am feeling scared and sad for no reason and would like to be comforted like this, please and thank you. 🙃🩷
CW: anxiety, fear
You were sitting next to Peter on the couch trying not to cry. He was right next to you, and you loved him, and yet you felt so alone. So scared. This was a stomach-churning, familiar feeling—free-floating sadness and fear with no discernible source, no plausible explanation.
Peter laughed at the show you two were watching and you jumped… then laughed like you knew what was going on.
He looked at you. “Hey, are you okay?”
You smiled. “I’m fine. I’ll just be right back.” You got up, climbed over his legs, and went into the bathroom. You pushed the door behind you and sat on the edge of the tub. Tears were flowing freely now and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You realized the door had only closed partway, but one thing at a time. You dropped your head between your knees to try to alleviate the nausea. Your breathing was ragged and you felt so scared... but of what? That part was maddening.
You became aware of a tiny, barely audible tapping on the bathroom door.
“Hi,” you said, your voice muffled because your head was between your knees.
“I didn’t want to startle you again. Are you okay? Can I come in?”
You froze. You hated people seeing you like this, even Peter, but you also wanted someone to tell you everything was going to be okay. You made a noise that wasn’t really affirmative or negative. “I’m just not feeling well,” you managed to say.
“Oh, okay. Can I get you anything? Flat soda?”
You smiled through your tears. He was always so game to help. You longed to say yes, but what could he do? Not even Peter Parker could help you when you were drowning like this.
You brought your head up, and your movement caught Peter’s eye. That damn heightened vision.
“Hey.” His voice was so soft and gentle, like he was talking to a scared cat or something. But then it quickly became alarmed. “Uhh, what’s all over your face?”
“What?” Well, that sure pulled you out of your anxiety! You jumped up and rushed to the mirror, but when you saw your reflection, you couldn’t help but laugh.
“What, you don’t like this?” You turned around to face Peter in the doorway. “I think it’s a good look.”
He stepped into the bathroom and squinted. “Is that… mascara?” He ran his thumb over your damp cheek and came away streaked with black.
“Yes, yes it is.”
“Okay, well, that’s a relief.” He chuckled, then held your head in his hands. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”
His kindness just made you cry harder because the messaging you usually got was that your feelings were inconvenient and unwelcome.
“I’m sorry I’m like this.”
“I’m sorry you’re like this too.”
Your heart dropped and that must have translated on your face because he instantly started rambling. “No, I didn’t mean anything bad, I just wish you didn’t feel like this. I don’t care if you’re like this. I mean, I do care, but not in a negative way.” He sighed, finally giving up. “I just want to help.”
He was so sweet you couldn’t resist a tiny smile. “Thank you.”
“Would it be okay if I hugged you?”
You nodded and let him pull you into his chest. His warm arms wrapped tightly around you, and you leaned into him, listening to his heartbeat. For as lanky as he was, he could give a good weighted blanket hug. His hand rubbed your back. Despite being ostensibly orphaned, he was very loving and shared it easily. I love your precious heart. You'd heard that line in a song somewhere the other day, and you’d thought of him then… and certainly now.
“I’m just anxious is all,” you whispered. “I can’t even explain it, I don’t know where it came from, it just… grabbed my ankles and pulled me under while we were sitting on the couch.”
He kissed the top of your head.
“I would have told you, I just can’t even put it into words beyond… scared. And alone. And I know you’re literally holding me and it makes no sense....”
“No, I’ve felt that way before. Alone with other people?”
“Yeah, I guess that’s the best way to put it. Because your feelings are always there, just waiting to attack you, whether you’re alone or not. You’re always alone, at least sort of, and that is terrifying.”
He slowly rocked you in his arms. “You’re not alone right now, though. Even if it feels that way, I swear, you’re not alone. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
You held onto him tighter. “Promise?”
And what if rap WAS only about sex, violence, and drugs... what then? Would you be justified in looking down upon it as not being "real" art? What would your justification be? Sex is immoral and taboo? Drugs should never be mentioned outside of D.A.R.E programs? Songs about violence turn children to it? Would you turn that standard to other genres as well? I know you wouldn't, I know you haven't, because it's never really been about the topics explored.
as it gets warmer let's all remember the two most beautiful accessories a girl can have this summer are hairy legs and a bunch of bruises from bangin around
Your friendly neighborhood Spider-baby
repost
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Outside your bedroom window the sun is starting to rise, and cars are driving by. Your head lays on Peter's chest and a leg of yours is thrown over him. You start to stir when Peter begins to wake up. Those infamous Spidey Senses are especially helpful right now because he can feel that something is wrong with Charlotte.
"Mornin', bug. I think I hear something in Charlie's room, and it does not sound good at all." He whispers.
You readjust and sit up at that statement.
"Oh shit, you're right."
Both of you practically jog to your daughter's room and fling open the door. Charlotte stands in her crib aggressively shaking it, so aggressively that it's simply unnatural that a baby could do that. Your face contorts in shock, and you look between Peter and your daughter.
"I guess I was right about having a 'Spider baby'." You chuckle.
"Yeah, I know this is our first kid, but I don't think that's normal. If I hadn't secured the crib, she'd be falling on her face from doing that."
Peter walks over to the crib and plucks her right out. She babbles incoherently at him and grabs onto his shirt.
"You can't be doing that, lovebug, you just have to wait for mommy and daddy to get you in the morning." He coos.
She side eyes him and buries her head further into his chest. He walks into the kitchen with you trailing behind and tries to set Charlotte down in her Pack 'n Play yet he can't. Her little hands stick to his shirt with seemingly no way to get them off. His brows furrow and he looks only to realize, her hands aren't actually holding on to him, she's just sticking to him with her hands flat.
"She got the sticky hands too?" He says incredulously.
You laugh from pure shock and tickle her until her hands finally unstick from him. Her giggles fill the quiet of the apartment and she squirms until you set her in the Pack 'n Play. She plops down and immediately throws her pacifier. You let out a sigh and hug Peter. He hugs you just a little tighter and places a kiss on the crown of your head.
"This sucks. Who knew I'd have a baby with Spiderman powers?"
"Evidently me. I feel like we kind of cursed ourselves with always calling her 'lovebug', Pete."
"Yeah, probably or Spiderbaby." He chuckles
"She'll be okay though. At this point, she's like seven months old, the only time her super strength would bad is breaking toys or something."
Peter laughs at that as he opens the fridge and grabs the tub of yogurt. You yawn and lean against Peter, putting your head on his shoulder from behind as he mixes yogurt and berries for Charlotte. You take Charlotte out of her Pack 'n Play and fake groan as you do.
"Oooh my gosh, you're getting so big, Charlie."
She babbles excitedly and squishes your cheeks. You slide her into her highchair and clip on the tray. Peter places her bowl on the tray and pushes down on it so the suction cups stick.
"I don't think those suction cups will work anymore." He remarks lightly.
"Yeah, probably not." You chuckle.
Charlotte squishes the strawberries and raspberries and rubs the juicies on her chair before sticking her hands in the bowl. Then she sticks her entire face in and eats it that way. The bowl ends up on her head with fruit stained yogurt dripping on her.
"Charlie! We just gave you a bath last night." You groan for real this time.
She giggles and claps her hands, "Dada!"
"Yeah, lovebug? What's up?" He holds in a laugh at the sight of her.
"Dada, Dada, Dada, up!" She throws her hands in the air and reaches for him.
He unbuckles her and carries her into the bathroom.
"Hey, bug?" He calls out to you.
"Yeah?" You yell back.
"Can you wipe off her highchair?"
"What?"
You find him in the bathroom sitting on the closed toilet seat checking the water temperature and bouncing Charlotte on his knee.
"What'd you say, Pete?"
"Just asked if you'd wipe off her highchair. I feel like the berries will stain it."
"Yeah, sure." You shrug and walk right back to the kitchen.
Meanwhile, Charlotte splashes around in the bath and Peter rubs green apple scented shampoo into her dark curls. She squirms in place but quickly leans into his touch. She repeatedly babbles 'dada' until he wraps her in a hooded pink towel and covers her chubby cheeks in kisses. Her contagious laughter echoes through the bathroom and hallway and he places her on the ground while he looks for an outfit for her.
You soon join them and give Peter a chaste kiss before putting a diaper on Charlotte.
"Hi, lottie, look at those rolls." You coo at her, gently squishing her chubby thighs.
She grabs your shirt and pulls you close to try to kiss you but it's really just slobbering on you. She tries to pull away after a minute but her hand is stuck.
"Hey, baby?" You call nervously.
"Yeah?" He says back absentmindedly.
"She's stuck again. How much do you care about this shirt." You admit.
"Considering that's a faded D.A.R.E shirt I got as a kid, she can rip it all she wants." He remarks.
Her fist closes a few times and surprisingly she comes unstuck. You pick her up and place her down in her crib, handing her a pacifier. Her eyes flutter closed and she falls asleep soon after. Both you and Peter walk to the living room and flop onto the couch.
"Spiderbaby..." You whisper incredulously.
"Yeah, Spiderbaby..." He whispers back with a smile on his face, kissing you, completely relaxed.
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I literally love all of you, but as a Tumblr veteran, Tumblr's main feature is the reblog feature. It is the beating heart of the dashboard and the foundation for a chronological timeline. The For You page here should not be your default setting.
You guys have got to start reblogging stuff you enjoy, especially, specifically gifs and fan art but also fics and fan theories or even hot takes if you're not afraid of a lil discourse. I'm tired of being the first or third reblog for a person's post and then seeing my blog's followers do nothing but hit like, while blogs sit there with no new posts in months or years!
Reblog more stuff please. Thank you, have a good day.
You're not even going to reblog this post are you
fandom dies in the likes. You HAVE to reblog.
can i be honest tho i kinda hate makeup bc i love licking my lips and rubbing my hands on my face like a cat or a fly annd i also love wiping my eyes like a sleepy infant all the time so basically i cant do it
morning/night person is a false dichotomy because its impossible to have any energy at any point of the day
if you ever catch me watching euphoria that’s not me I’ve been possessed
I’m very truly sorry if this comes off as judgmental because the last thing I want to do is critique actual writing but I have to ask !!! If anyone has a better radar for detecting ai generated writing than me without actually feeding it through the detectors because I think that’s still contributing (isn’t it?) - is the current style of fanfiction that I keep seeing where nearly every word is its own line, and therefore by structural design every word/sentence is extremely dramatic and emphasized ai-generated? Not only do i see it everywhere, but I feel like i see it ten times a day from the same person when i see it which makes me nervous. again if it’s not I’m not trying to criticize the writing style it just seems so suspicious to me that it popped up out of nowhere one day and I don’t think I’ve seen a full paragraph in months.
It usually looks something like this.
Every word is its own line.
Not long sentences.
Never delicate.
Dramatic.
Staccato.
Harsh.
Frequently italicized.
And sometimes
They even forget a period
Until a few lines down.
the most fun a girl can have is finding parallels, noticing patterns, making connections, contemplating
does anyone want to play being in love with me
