Sade Olutola
wallacepolsom
Not today Justin
will byers stan first human second

tannertan36

Andulka
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Kiana Khansmith
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izzy's playlists!

#extradirty
AnasAbdin
we're not kids anymore.
One Nice Bug Per Day

JBB: An Artblog!
Mike Driver
Three Goblin Art
noise dept.
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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
seen from Algeria

seen from Chile

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@notyou-0303
Grand Slam Thank You Ma’am aka Tennis AU (coming soon…ish)
Rising star Lexa Woods has her eye on the prize of winning the Women’s Singles title at Wimbledon but when a recurring injury flares up before the Championships begin, she’s forced to bow to pressure from her coaching staff and seek treatment. What she wasn’t counting on when she walked into the clinic that day was for a sassy blonde physio to turn her carefully ordered world upside down…
Wimbledon is upon us once more, so this feels like a good time for some shameless self promotion:
Read the complete fic on ao3!
Happy birthday Heda 😔
Day 2 of Wimbledon and so many top 20 players (m/f) on their way home already! Do I hate it, or do I maybe kinda love it? I'm not sure yet, but it's definitely interesting!
And there goes another one…
I hope July is kind to you. And I hope that this July, you are kind to yourself.
This isn't kind, July, this is BRUTAL
i’m obsessed with how every single person can be stupid in their own special way and infinitely smart in another. simultaneously
Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin
I love doing nothing, what I don't love is the inevitable overthinking that comes with doing nothing
This night needs more of you.
Kudos to Joséphine Meis for her Annie Awards nomination, Best Storyboard (TV/Series) category. Such an incredible achievement and well-deserved recognition for this beautiful work. Don’t miss out on Josephine’s masterful work✨ (video source)
"An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet regardless of time, place or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, but it will never break." - Chinese proverb
Central to the film is a reclamation of the Orpheus myth, a version of which the three young women read aloud together one night. Sophie registers distress at Orpheus’s fatal, selfish incompetence in looking back at Eurydice when he was told not to, and Marianne suggests he may have done it on purpose, preferring to lose the woman and savor, instead, the romance of his grief, making not “the lover’s choice, but the poet’s.” But it’s Héloïse who removes, for once, the fixation on Orpheus, his failings, and his loss. What if, she says to Marianne with an edge of defiance, it was Eurydice herself who chose art over staying together, who rather than leave the underworld with Orpheus, stopped and called out “Turn around,” preferring to remain down there and be preserved in poetry. A kind of freedom and a kind of permanence, rather than, as eighteenth-century marriage looks to be, an unwilling exchange of one for the other. — In Portrait of a Lady on Fire, Love is a Work of Art
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