2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Keni
art blog(derogatory)

Product Placement
KIROKAZE
DEAR READER
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Discoholic 🪩
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@sofonisbaanguissola
I’m a hopeless bromantic, high five me in the rain, fistbump me gently as the sun sets.
I thought, as I wiped my eyes on the corner of my apron: Penelope did this too. And more than once: you can’t keep weaving all day And undoing it all through the night; Your arms get tired, and the back of your neck gets tight; And along towards morning, when you think it will never be light, And your husband has been gone, and you don’t know where, for years. Suddenly you burst into tears; There is simply nothing else to do. And I thought, as I wiped my eyes on the corner of my apron: This is an ancient gesture, authentic, antique, In the very best tradition, classic, Greek; Ulysses did this too. But only as a gesture,—a gesture which implied To the assembled throng that he was much too moved to speak. He learned it from Penelope… Penelope, who really cried.
Edna St. Vincent Millay, “An Ancient Gesture” (via sofonisbaanguissola)
Lesbo Gang Bang Gon Buurman, 1990
representation of fems as agents of our own sexual desire is precious and powerful. images like lesbo gang bang are so many things at once in a fem’s imagination, all of which combine to deliver a heady erotic charge that has long made this one of my favourite depictions of lesbian desire.
central, of course, is the explicit fact this is a lesbian image. when fems look for representations of how we want to be in erotic situations, we are often left with images created by and for men. this can be alienating and leaves us unsatisfied - we want the presence of a butch to add fuel to our fantasy, to more truly reflect what it is we are aching for, what we dream about when we close our eyes and let our imaginations run wild. we want, also, for these images to be autonomous from the male gaze, as we want to be in our daily lives and in our sexual encounters with other women.
the butches frame the fem either side in aggressive eagerness, handling her roughly, with seeming no regard. these tough, leather-clad butches aren’t shy about what they want from this lone fem. one yanks her skirt up to reveal her panties, feeling her cunt. the other grasps her by the arm, where her dress has slipped off her shoulder - or perhaps been tugged. there is an element of danger here - the fem’s hand is braced against one butch’s shoulder, as though to push her away, while the other restrains her. the predatory lust in their expressions is undisguised. between them, she seems vulnerable. even the butch bartender in the back seems more curious than concerned, as though at any moment she might hop the bar to join in. in a certain light, it is a wry invocation of the predatory lesbian trope, the sort of image conjured to frighten supposedly straight women away from a dark and sordid world.
yet the most significant element of this image is the key to its erotic power: the fem’s attention is not concerned with the butch who grasps her by the arm, or the one that fondles her cunt. instead she stares directly into the camera, at the viewer. her gaze is not one of entreaty or passivity; she does not want to be rescued. she is defiant and brazen, spreading her legs to give these butches easier access to what it is they all want, staring us straight in the eye as she does so. whether you are butch or fem, or how you would want yourself figured in such a scene, this fem’s agency reassures us. “I want this,” her expression says, “and it’s okay for you to want it too.”
this is the quality of the lesbian gaze that Honey Lee Cottrell spoke about: “while your heterosexual woman model might compel the rest of the world to look at her, a lesbian was addressing you.” this scenario of power play and objectification is the fem’s desire as much as it is that of the butches’ - and her boldness is an invitation to all of us.
satan works fast but bobby from queer eye works faster
FACT: The Devil is terrified of Bobby Berk’s power and has avoided coming down to Georgia ever since Queer Eye started.
“The body has been made so problematic for women that it has often seemed easier to shrug it off and travel as a disembodied spirit.”
— Adrienne Rich; “Of Woman Born”
Never in my life had I felt myself so near that porous line where my own body was done with and the roots and the stems and the flowers began. Mary Oliver, “White Flowers”
See more of my queer floral forest deity photoshoot on my blog
[image descriptions: three photos of Shannon outdoors, wearing a sheer tulle full-length dress, black embroidered with multi-colored flowers and butterflies over a black bodysuit or black bra and underwear. She is white with dark curly hair and wears a flower crown.]
If the heavens ever did speak She’s the last true mouthpiece
Sergei Polunin “Take me to Church” by Hozier Directed by David LaChapelle
Two Women in Love - John Gutmann, 1937
just like imagine finding marie antoinette’s last scent. imagine finding your fave heroine’s last tube of lipstick, or their brush, or their mascara. imagine that power, that potency. something they touched, this symbol of vanity and obligation and power and agency, something you’ve mirrored the use of long after their death, across space and time and generations and deaths and births and life. same rituals. the spray behind the neck, the wrist. you smell them in the air. pop the tube open, their last lipstick, this kiss of death and beeswax – smells like powder and promises that you’re gonna be as badass as them, if you swipe it on. this chalice of a thing, of potential. i used to break into old houses sometimes, when i was renovating a house that was almost mine – i’d come across old things all the time. old compacts, lockets, wedding photos. i’d sit in old claw foot tubs and listen to whitney houston and watch the ceiling slowly crumble in outrage at my temporary occupancy. i always wanted to find the old makeup of a dead mother, or a girl like me. can you imagine what it must have been like to find the last perfume vial of marie antoinette? can you imagine? i do.
i wanna find joan of arc’s bobby pins, or something. i want that kind of drive. i wanna hold that power in my hands. this rageful girl with god’s ear and the power of france behind her. imagine? imagine. your hair twisting back with the force that kept back hers. divine!!!!! divine. divine. the divine.
“There’s people talking, they talk about me”
— Hilary Duff on moral perspectivism in ‘Wake Up’ (2003)
Page decorations by T. H. Robinson for Una and the Red Cross Knight, and Other Tales from Spenser’s Faery Queene, 1905.
*eats your pussy because I’m proud of you*
Comfortably Numb-1979
Star Carrier Enamel Pins
Eveen Studios on Etsy
See our #Etsy or #Enamel Pins tags
The sun and the moon (coming together), ink and watercolor on 24x32cm paper.