Product Placement
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2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
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Love Begins
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Xuebing Du
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we're not kids anymore.
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
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Stranger Things
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$LAYYYTER
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@nonbinaryskulls
If you’re lurking, here’s everything you need to know
I’m thriving
I’m in love
I’m getting hotter every day
I graduated with a bachelors AND a masters at the top of my class with honors and multiple awards (at 23 no less 💅🏼)
My career is taking off
I have a pet snake so clearly I’m living my best life
They/Them
You know what grinds my gears? Watch faces without numbers on them. Just... a suggestion of time. The hint that time is passing. No! I need to know at a mere glimpse the exact minute and hour. Who has time for what time it might be?
Get out if here with these La Croix ass watches.
$700 and you don't even get numbers?!
Guess is right. Wtf time is it?
This is just a feather.
You want the time? Sorry, best I can do is astronomy.
Man, c'mon.
For when you just don't care about being on time anymore.
At least this one has the date, the most important part
today's bird is this Common Swift! this CRAZY photo was taken by Eden Davies from the uk. (image was pulled from reddit in r/Birdsfacingforward)
Me: oh if only I had a way to plot points in two dimensions
The ever reliable cartesian coordinate plane:
it's 3pm
This is like those loathsome watches...
scientists are trying to discover something harder than getting out of bed to go to work in the morning. and dont make a fucking penis joke ok they already checked everyone’s dick and it doesn’t even come close
You guys are always like "being crushed by 10,000 tons of rock probably feels good as hell" or "being torn to pieces by hunting dogs would low key fix me" and I feel like those things would actually be unpleasant.
How about "Drinking an ice cold strawberry milkshake probably feels good as hell". Do you guys like that one.
my body is a machine that turns normal situations into psychological horror
...and we're reprogramming it.
I think this might be the most beautiful meme I've ever seen. I just spent five minutes extolling all its virtues to my husband:
It doesn't even mention Julius Caesar or the Ides of March.
It's from a very different segment of the play
It's not even the famous part of that segment that everyone knows by heart
The "I'm just sayin'" attitude of all the Seinfeldians in the screenshot (although if memory serves, what they're actually saying is, "not that there's anything wrong with that")
It just comes at the whole situation in such an oblique fashion
I don't think I've ever seen an Ides of March meme do anything like this before
I love it and I love you for bringing it to me.
Analyzing the politics of a work that's meant to be apolitical is actually a really interesting exercise because it asks you to critically examine what the creator considers to be "political" in the first place. Which ideas are just How Things Are, and which ones are Political, and how is that influenced by the creator's beliefs?
Usually this just ends up with you looking like a moron btw
Angrily lashing out at the suggestion that it's possible to do basic media analysis was foundational to the ragebait ecosystem of the 2010s, from which we got basically the entire culture of modern far right politics, btw.
I genuinely believe myself and others are being so sincere and literal when we say TOUCH GRASS
I went outside and got an education, that's where I learned that you can obtain knowledge and insight through analytical methods, then noticed that some people who sit on the internet yelling at strangers get really mad about that constantly.
Tumblr is such an awesome website. What if your diary had a pvp option
"can you lock tf in" babes i have adhd i am locked tf out with the keys inside
hey, do you mind if i immensly value our relationship, in a way i'll never properly be able to fully verbally communicate
"Um," said the fairy. "Choose something else."
Rosamund hesitated. It was, she had to admit, the first time she had ever been given a wish, so she wasn't an expert with this sort of thing, but she felt that this was not part of the typical script. "Sorry," she said. "Is that not allowed?"
The fairy grimaced. When it spoke, its voice came out pained and stressed. "Y-y-y-e-e-e-no," it sighed at last, dragonfly wings sagging. "No, technically no, it's not not allowed, but-" It suddenly brightened. "How about gold? Can't go wrong with gold. Gold's a good wish."
Rosamund frowned. This was really not going the way she expected at all. "Excuse me-"
"Beauty, that's a good one too, beauty's always popular," it went on. "And if there's a ball nearby tonight I can probably-"
"Excuse me!"
The wand was twiddled in chitinous fingers. "Right," the fairy said, sounding scolded. "Sorry, it's just..." Its voice trailed off.
Her grandmother's clock chimed midnight from the mantelpiece.
Then - "I'm sorry," it said, not daring to look up, "I know it's not fair, but - you know what I am. You know what we do to wishes. If you wished for wealth I'd have to turn your hair into silver, so you’d have to tear every strand out of your head before you could spend it. We can't help it. It's what we do. The cost of a wish is that you get what you want, but you don't get it the easy way.
"So if you wish for a child, it'll be - strange. Twisted, somehow. Made of pine or marzipan or have the head of a hedgehog. That's the cost of a wish-child; you'll get the child you wished for, but it'll never be - right."
Rosamund waited to see if there was anything else. She felt a sting to her pride when she realized there wasn't. "Is that all?" she said. "I wouldn't care what I got-"
"You all say that," the fairy said. "You all say you wouldn't care what you got. You all say it, and you really believe it, until the neighbours sneer at you and your hedgehog child for too long, or your back aches because your thumb-high child can't help you in the fields, or your pine child kicks and bites and won't obey, and then you think, 'This isn't the way it was supposed to be,' and then..."
The fairy stopped and looked into Rosamund’s eyes. It was a beautiful thing, all glittering carapace and iridescent wings, but just for an instant it looked terribly, terribly old.
"I'm sorry," it said. "But I'm tired of making unloved children."
actually my mommy is the one who has issues with me. so.
You are a bug in bug hell but your spider torturer so fucking bad at their job that the devil himself has to grab you with his gay pitchfork and help them
