@theartofmadeline
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let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Andulka
Discoholic šŖ©
ā£ Chile in a Photography ā£
noise dept.
Not today Justin
Janaina Medeiros
DEAR READER
wallacepolsom
#extradirty
RMH
šŖ¼
romaā
Mike Driver
i don't do bad sauce passes
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
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@middlespring
Welcome to being an adult! Featuring such injury causing events as
- sneezed wrong
- turned your neck a little too fast
- slept weird
- took the trash out to the curb and stepped at a slightly different angle than usual
- breathed
- failed to breathe properly
- breathed in the wrong stuff. Allergy time
- looked too hard at something too far away
- knees
Tommy: I think youāre in love with Eddie, the former owner of this house
Buck: okay first of all Eddie did NOT own this house, he rented it. Second of all, heās straight
Sheriff: I think you murdered your husband, Evan Buckley
Eddie: okay, first of all he likes to be called Buck. Second of all, I would NEVER murder him
The Pevensie children are too old for their age.
Their mom notices, at the dinner table. She sees no nagging children, no stupid fights. She sees Lucy eating and speaking with perfect manners, Edmund analysing the economy and war with concerning skill, Susan being gracious but poised, like a diplomat.
Their father sees it in Peters eyes the first time they get into a fight. When he moves to punish Edmund for speaking out of turn, Peter calls him out on it. When his gaze meet his eldest son's, he's leveled by the war he sees behind it, the tensed muscle in his arm, the knuckles white around his knife. He's seen that before, in other soldiers. He doesn't know how to react.
Other children notice, too. Talking to all the Pevensie kids at the same time is like being the only one left out of a secret, and the way they touch and tease each other speaks of a history far deeper than their polite demeneor lets on. And when they walk they fall in line, as if there is a natural hierarchy between them.
The first time anyone picks a fight with Edmund, Peter comes home with a three week suspension and blood around his mouth. He looks more alive than you've seen him in weeks.
When Susan gets back in the pool after Narnia, she wins all the contests. Coaches can't explain how to beat her, because they don't understand how she's doing it, either. She seems to almost disappear when underwater.
Lucy, always gay and golden-haired, starts dancing, and never misses a step. She moves with an elegance that no 10 year old should have, and all the girls want to be friends with her
Edmund soon becomes the best student in his faculty. He always seems to know the right thing to say, and teachers laud his ability to think through complex problems. His mouth does get him in trouble sometimes, but the boy seems uncatchable, always talking his way through the cracks. And if not?
No one actively fears Peter, but everyone is a little scared of him sometimes. He's tall for his age, sure, but there is something else, some other air that seems to give him an authority far beyond what's normal for a teenage boy. He's nice enough, but teachers can't stand it, and bullies learn very quickly that pissing him off means missing teeth and black eyes.
The Pevensies are not quite inhuman, but not fully mortal, either
Oh my god, I am so similar to one Evan Buckley that it's not even funny. Was just sitting there, thinking through my umpteenth identity crisis, "am I too much and does it make me unlovable", and it dawned on me that maybe, just maybe, it's not a coincidence that he's my favorite character??
Can't believe it took me four years to figure this one out lol
Crazy how many people want characters in fiction to speak and act like theyāve had 20 hours of intensive therapy. Could NOT be me I want these bitches fucked up insane
my friend briar and i lovingly call this one ātherapy speak jokerā and it almost caused her to drop biological samples one time
i think the joker should start talking like this for real. no other character should do this only the joker. i want batman to have to deal with this
13 hour exposure of the tarantula nubula
A lot of people, Iāve noticed, avoid looking closely at themselves. Iām the opposite. The same way I agonize over my reflection in mirrors, I surround myself with images of who I am. There is the version I know -- the one Iāve crafted over the years, the one who looks back at me and offers comfort in her familiarity. And then there are countless others. Uncontrollable. Shameful, even. Everything other people could possibly think about me, and I doggedly carve into my mental space with a knife just to see them, to understand what I am to someone whose loyalty and kindness is not my birthright. This is not something I can ever know, though. Tormenting myself with half-truths that only really reflect what I think of others is pointlessā¦ and equally as addictive. If I guess correctly, I get the prize -- being loved! Well, just as long as I remain similar to that ever-changing wisp of smoke that presumably bears my likeness. I donāt want to beg for love. I donāt want to cower and plead and betray the one person who actually does love me with the exhausting pretense that never truly benefits her.
So I carve away.
At the end of the day, the hardest blow is the realization that no one was destroying my sense of self-worth as much as I did. When I look back at the people whose acceptance and adoration I craved so desperately, it finally settles in: they never even cared enough to belittle me. I did it. It was all me, I am still doing that, I will keep maiming my mind unless I finally, finally stop. My feelings for those people disappear the same way they do, but the damage stays, and it grows, and it punches holes in my defenses just in time for the arrival of the newest group of faces I will project my intrinsic lack of self-worth onto.
The hopeful thing, of course, is that I understand now. If I know how I'm doing it, I can stop it.
What else is there to do?
THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE screencaps.
Linked above is a folder with a zip file that contains screencaps of The Haunting Of Hill House. This cast includes: Michiel Huisman, Carla Gugino, Henry Thomas, Elizabeth Reaser, Oliver Jackson-Cohen, Kate Siegel, Victoria Pedretti, Samantha Sloyan, Annabeth Gish, Robert Longstreet, Timothy Hutton, and more.Ā All of these screencaps were made by me using blu-ray 1080p footage. These screencaps can be used for icons, edits, promos, and anything for personal use. If you want to sell/release base icons or use any of my caps in commission work, talk to me first.Ā
These are FREE/PAY WHAT YOU CAN and available for download on my gumroad. Please contact me via tumblr @byroncapped if you have issues with the file.
ā ļøĀ Ā WARNING: blood, addiction, death
šĀ Ā LIKE/REBLOG: please like/reblog this post if you download these caps.
šĀ Ā CREDIT: please like/reblog this post. since i cap films and shows with little or no resources, i ask that you also consider leaving credit somewhere on your blog/docs/carrd so that more people can find these caps.
"I would if I could" is what I want to say
In the incessant thrum of life
There is no choice but to always can.
I lose my voice but inevitably regain
The self-control to not scream even once.
It's miracle! (It's a farce.)
I remain calm and fairly impartial
I can handle being forced to function
(Even if it runs me to the ground)
(Tell me more how wrong I am to want to stop)
"Where do you see yourself in five years"
Can you see your face in that crying mess
Can you see anything clearly at all
(In five years, am I fully gone?)
- "9 to 5", 2025, by me
'when my time comes around', 2025
Iām watching Splash (1984) which is a romcom about a guy who falls in love with a mermaid, and when she chooses a human name she chooses Madison and guy says āthatās not a real name, but alrightā which seems to imply that Madison was not a name until at least the 80ās and all girls named Madison are actually named after the mermaid. thought you should know
I think...you might be right
what the fuck
putting together the puff quilt I started in May š§µ
One day you think: I want to die. And then you think, very quietly, actually I want a coffee. I want a nap. A sandwich. A book. And I want to die turns day by day into I want to go home, I want to walk in the woods, I want to see my friends, I want to sit in the sun. I want a cleaner room, I want a better job, I want to live somewhere else, I want to live.
AI under capitalism
Last Will by Nikolay Kurganov
ULTIMATE SHIPS CHALLENGEĀ -Ā Domestic ScenesĀ [1/5] ā³ One year became two, and from two, it spread into an endless time, so it seemed. Three, four, five years would pass. And there was peace. At long last, deep within the au pair's heart, there was peace. And that peace held for years, which is more than some of us ever get.
Mold fairies with their berry of choiceš Instead of pixie dust they leave trails of mold spores.
