you all know the scene
Claire Keane
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
No title available

No title available
sheepfilms
DEAR READER
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

⁂

roma★
almost home
KIROKAZE
Jules of Nature
Keni

PR's Tumblrdome
Stranger Things
TVSTRANGERTHINGS

★

Love Begins
cherry valley forever
Game of Thrones Daily

seen from United States
seen from Saudi Arabia

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Türkiye

seen from Malaysia

seen from Portugal

seen from Italy

seen from Australia

seen from South Korea
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from United States
seen from Mexico
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from Sweden

seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Türkiye

seen from Canada
@velutluna
you all know the scene
The ancient screen of betrayal.
cackling about the idea of shane and ilya getting separated on the bench from time to time and the public thinks "oooh, trouble in paradise? the rivalry rearing its head again?? hollander getting fed up with rozanov??"
and the truth is that the team was playing against someone ilya and/or shane ESPECIALLY hates, which means shane was dropping the most vicious, lethal reads known to man and making ilya crack tf up to the point that they were attracting attention and the coach was just afraid of someone reading lips and getting them all in trouble
and signficantly, the three person buffer between them just keeps shane from SAYING his comments
he and ilya are still leaning forward and backward to look at each other and exchange "mhm" "mhm" looks that still make it clear they're still communicating their thoughts perfectly fine
THIS first and foremost
But I feel like this is the point of connection that gets Shane to actually accept Troy as a guy he can vibe with. They make the mistake of putting Troy as one of the guys in between Shane and Ilya only for Shane to keep muttering things and Troy to pick right up where Ilya left off on dragging people. Troy may have been a homophobic menace for a while but not he’s a homosexual menace and Shane can very much so get down with that. Ilya has almost as much fun listening to them banter as joining in.
Shane and Troy are downright catty when it comes to bad hockey and shitty men. “Do you think he’s tried passing to a player instead of empty ice before?” “No, I don’t think he knows how to find someone who will accept a pass from him. If he had, maybe he wouldn’t be harassing women in every major city in North America.”
Ilya treats Shane and Troy on the bench together like his personal two man comedy show.
Just watched Adam Conover (of Adam Ruins Everything) make such a solid point that I think we should spread far and wide. Yes, having AI write your emails is lazy, sure, but people love being lazy. We need to really emphasize that sending AI emails (or using AI responses on social media, or publishing AI flyers, or or or) is rude.
It's rude. You're making someone take their time to read something you couldn't bother to write. You're telling them they were so unimportant you couldn't be bothered to actually take the time to say something yourself. And frankly, you're lying about it while you're at it.
It's rude.
It's not just rude to make me read something you didn't want to write. It is that you expect me to respond to your email written by Claude. You don't even want me to talk to you. You want me to talk to Claude so that you can make Claude respond for you. It is rude to expect me to talk to a chatbot when I wanted to talk to you.
This a Moonmelon, scientifically knows as asidus. This fruit grows in some parts of Japan, and is known for its vibrant blue color. What you probably don’t know about this fruit is that it can switch flavors after you eat it. Everything sour will taste sweet, everything salty will taste bitter, and it gives water a strong orange-like taste. It’s also very expensive…costing about ¥16000 JPY (which is about 200 dollars).
this is alexandrias melon (wow)
it never grows seeds but it can still produce other melons (its magic)
it is grown deep in the jungles of peru and can prevent you from aging well into the hundreds
it is known by the natives there as k’uhul ajaw cacao shi-jiiy.
its really strange how all of these pictures look exactly the same because everything on the internet is true
This is the Peppermeloni. (seriously gosh just look at that sexy mother fucker) Its scientific name is Tumblrous Pepperonus.
The only known specimen is in a pot in David Karps treasure dungeon. It is a tradition that a single slice is given to every tumblr blog that reaches 500,000 followers.
It has the remarkable property of being as healthy as watermelon but tasting like cheesy pepperoni pizza.
This planet is really just so amazing guys wow.
Patrickmelon
The taste of this melon will always surprise you.
I’m fucking done with this site
This is the evermelon.
If you cut this watermelon a certain way you will find that it has seemingly regenerated. You can do this an infinite number of times and will have a neverending supply of melon.
OH GOD I haven’t seen this post in YEARS and THAT is the fucking additon to it!?
ALRIGHT THATS IT ITS TIME TO STOP
Hi my name is Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Ravenmelon and I’m ebony black (that’s how I got my name) with purple streaks and red tips, and a lot of people tell me I look like watermelons (AN: if u don’t know what dat is get da hell out of here!).
Nothing will ever be better than the last one
HASHBFJGJDHRJFKFKRJ
That last one took me out at the god damn kneecaps-
Someone wrote a really interesting article about why people believe these sorts of things so easily.
:)
@hellsite-hall-of-fame
Dame Archer kicks McDougal’s Scots ass there in the rain at the Washington Midsummer Renaissance Faire - August 11, 2018 - Photo by Douglas Herring
Oh NO.
me, a sheltered noblewoman: Pray who is that brave knight? Dame Archer:*turns around* me: gasp! *instantly in love*
Alicia Archer
my bi heart………
I’VE NEVER SEEN THE ADDED PICS
*dies*
Oh shit.
GAY KNIGHTS
Fellas I’m real gay
@0hheytherebigbadwolf HELP!!
Every June this inevitably winds up back on my dash. And I appreciate that. And I will reblog it. Every time.
YUSSSSSSSSS
I was innocently buying a soda and a Kit Kat bar from a snack shop recently when the cashier said, "Oh, a Kit Kat! That's what I named my cat!" and then launched into An Monologue.
Nobody was behind me in line, which seemed to be a good reason for her to treat me to a five minute retelling of the identification, rescue, and argument over initial custody of Kit Kat, who was so small they thought when they first heard him crying for help that he was a bird and not a kitten in a tree, and is now fifteen pounds of "pure, sculpted lardass".
And I didn't mind, precisely, I wasn't bored or anything, but around the time she was bringing me up to speed on Kit Kat's current status it occurred to me that this woman is a cashier in a store that primarily sells candy bars and beverages. People must buy Kit Kat bars from her multiple times a day. Does she do this every time there's nobody in line behind the purchaser? Did I just have that I Own Several Cats And Will Enjoy Your Cat Stories look about me? Was it the first time it occurred to her that she sold the brand of candy bar she named her cat after? Was she new to the job of selling Kit Kat bars?
The idea that every time she sees a Kit Kat bar she is gripped by the urge, Manchurian Candidate style, to retell the story of Kit Kat the Cat, elevates her from a friendly cashier to a deep enigma. Truly there is no knowing the mind of another.
IT GETS FUNNIER
I was in the same snack shop, which I'm in, like, once a month, recently. I only recognized her because I spent five minutes listening to this monologue in sincere wonder. But I did recognize her, so as I was buying a soda and a Milky Way bar (this time) I said, without thinking about how this would come across, "Hey, how's Kit Kat?"
She looked genuinely horrified and said, "What...how?"
"Oh fuck!" I blurted. "Sorry! You told me about him last time!"
This is still quite cryptic as responses go but she gave me a frankly frantic look of sudden recognition and said, "He's fine! You bought a Kit Kat! I was unmedicated!"
I did not inform her she is small town famous on Tumblr and instead just said, "Glad you're both doing well!" and we parted as confused and mortified friends.
Gosh she's fun. I hope she's there next time. I want to reenact the Spiderman Pointing meme with her.
What is your opinion on using ChatGPT to help you write? I myself use it for moral boosters and when I'm doubting myself and ask it if something makes sense, nothing more as I'd never want a word of my novel to not be my own. But I've seen some hate online recently from writers saying that anyone who uses it at all isn't a writer? Which does make me awfully sad
-
It's not hate – we're scared and frustrated. Not just for ourselves, because AI is a genuine threat to our livelihoods, but also for the next generation of writers, like you. It's going to be a lot harder to get discovered or published with AI-generated content flooding the Internet and the book market.
Earlier this year, it was revealed that Meta trained Llama 3 on a massive body of pirated work. You can read more about it here. Meta employees knew this was morally wrong, but they did it anyway, because (1) they didn't want to pay anyone for the use of copyrighted work, and (2) they knew they could get away with it, and they have. They took our stories, born of real human experiences, and used them to feed something that's designed to be able to replace us. There are other reasons writers may be anti-AI, like the impact on the environment, but hopefully that gives you some context for why writers, specifically, are reacting to this so strongly.
You've said you wouldn't use ChatGPT to write your novel, which is great to hear. If you did, I would tell you that you weren't, in my opinion, a writer – just as I would never claim to be an artist if I used ChatGPT to create images, or a musician if I used it to generate a song. But I would also gently question why you feel like you need it to give you morale boosters or tell you if something makes sense. ChatGPT is not a human reader; unless you specifically instruct it not to flatter you, it will say what you want to hear. It isn't reacting to you, or to your story, with a human gut or a human heart. To me, any praise or encouragement it offers is empty. There's nobody and nothing behind it.
As for asking it to help you work out if something makes sense: I really do understand the temptation. I'm chronically ill, so I write at a slower pace than a lot of my colleagues, and it might help me churn out books faster if I asked ChatGPT to help me unpick a knot in the narrative, or fix a plot hole. But I don't want to surrender the ability to think and problem-solve for myself, and I would caution you against doing that – not just for the sake of your writing, but for everyday life. In this era of disinformation and propaganda, our ability to think, interrogate and analyse the world around us is more important than ever.
I can't stop you from using AI. But ask yourself: what would you have done before ChatGPT? Could you have figured out for yourself if something about your story makes sense? I think you definitely could have. It might have taken a bit longer, but you would have worked it out. I would encourage you to hold on to that ability. Cherish and nurture it. Rather than relying on artificial intelligence, trust your own.
All of this but I also want to add: OR ASK A FRIEND. MAKE FRIENDS AND THEN ASK FOR HELP FROM A HUMAN BEING. We're all so fucking scared of each other that we're turning to the hallucination machine to feed our hunger for connection, and ChatGPT can only give you a version of that which is utterly empty calories. It's like eating grass in a famine. Yeah, it'll fill your stomach so you stop hurting with hunger, but it won't nourish you, and it'll just make you sicker and you'll starve faster because your body will have to expend energy to try and fail to digest it.
Talk to other writers. Make friends. It's not rocket science, it's what a human being is wired to do. Just be kind and friendly and interested in other people and their writing, and they'll be interested in you and yours. And then if you can't figure it out, ASK FOR HELP. There is NOTHING wrong with asking for help. Asking for help is, in fact, a beautiful thing that will bring you closer together with a new friend. That's what you're sacrificing when you turn to ChatGPT for it -- you're losing out on the possibility of making a really profound, lasting, potentially lifetime friendship with another human being. You're missing out on something sacred and beautiful because you're impatient and scared and insecure.
Insecurity doesn't just vanish automatically. You have to file it down gradually over time, like filing your nails or sanding a piece of wood butter-smooth. You can do it. It is WORTH doing. It just takes some elbow grease.
Don't ask ChatGPT. Ask your new acquaintance, the one who you're like "ooh i don't know if we're good enough friends yet for me to ask for help..." DO IT. YOU ARE. DO IT. Experience shared humanity together! Open yourself to the possibility of connection! If you can't handle the small rejection of "ooh sorry, I can't, I'm at the grocery store right now and I've got errands the rest of the day," then you are ABSOLUTELY not cut out to have any kind of a writing career with bigger rejections than that. Build your muscles while you can, learn some resilience so that when you Make It as a writer, you're strong enough to survive the experience without being utterly annihilated.
Traditional Georgian dancing.
date a man who
i cannot even imagine how fit these people are they could kick my ass they could kick muhammad ali’s ass
Let me show you the Aggression of my people… through dance.
If your dance doesn’t require knee pads and posing en pointe it isn’t worth doing.
@dadvans I feel like you can do Things with this
So the last time I reblogged this, someone reblogged from me with a comment along the lines of “wait till you see them with swords”. So I went to search it up, and… guys. GUYS.
There are actual sparks flying holy shit =O
this went big about halfway through holy shit
It really did. When the swords started REALLY connecting around 3:20 literal sparks are flying
Oh come on lady, you can't deny a man his gaycation
You must surrender yourself mind, body and soul to the gaycation or be destroyed
Someone on reddit already suggested a sapphibbatical
Someone on reddit
already suggested a
sapphibbatical
Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.
how could you leave out the best part—the aquarium bit
"become a fish" (gay)
men will jump through an entire circus' worth of hoops rather than admitting they're bi
The level of mental hoops that guy had to jump through to say to his wife, "No, honey! Of course I wouldn't be cheating on you! Sex during gaycations doesn't count!"
Holy fucking shit! It gets trippier!
I mean, I feel horrible for the OP and her SIL...but "surrender to the gaycation" made me laugh way more than I should have.
this is an insane story
“Some men never return”
Helpppppp 😭
Um…here’s the reddit link? I’m speechless.
Don't worry honey, all the other men on gaycation aren't real people and they stop existing after. Hey, where's all the homophoboa coming from suddenly?
That's the beauty of the gaycation!
It get wilder. I only found out about this b/c of a youtube video reading the Gaycation post but, this isn't even the first one.
7 years ago someone posted this-
And 5 years a different user posted this-
What is happening with these people??? What weird ass cult did they find??
I read the shithead guy’s rambling in Nagito Komaeda’s voice
"some men never return because they're "totally feminized" into the state of permanent "pseudo-gayness"" is my favourite line out of the entire post
There is a very specific kind of sadness in realizing your parents loved you, and still did not always know how to meet your emotional needs.
Because it is confusing. It would almost feel easier if there was no love there at all. But sometimes there was love. In the way they tried to protect you. In the sacrifices they made. In the ways they worried about you, cared for you, wanted a good life for you.
And at the same time, there were still things missing.
Maybe comfort did not come in the way you needed it to. Maybe your feelings were not always understood, or noticed, or handled gently. Maybe you learned to keep certain parts of yourself quiet because it felt easier than trying to explain them.
That kind of hurt is difficult because it does not always come from cruelty. Sometimes it comes from people who loved you deeply, but did not know how to emotionally connect in the ways you needed. People carrying their own wounds, limitations, fears, or ways of surviving.
And you are allowed to acknowledge both truths at once.
You are allowed to recognize their love and still grieve what you needed but did not receive. Those things do not cancel each other out.
Forgiveness, for a lot of people, is not pretending nothing hurt you. It is slowly accepting that someone can love you and still fall short of understanding you completely.
That does not make your pain dramatic. It does not make them monsters either. Sometimes it just means everyone was trying with the emotional tools they had, and some of those tools were not enough.
And I think many people quietly carry guilt for still feeling hurt by parents they know tried their best. But being loved imperfectly can still leave wounds. It makes sense that it affected you.
At the same time, you do not have to stay trapped only in anger forever either. Sometimes healing looks like understanding that your parents were human before they were parents. People shaped by their own experiences, their own upbringing, their own emotional gaps.
That understanding does not erase your feelings. It just softens the sharp edges around them a little.
You deserved emotional safety. You deserved gentleness. You deserved to feel understood, comforted, and emotionally close to the people raising you.
And if they could not fully give that to you, it is okay to mourn it.
But I hope you also know this: the love you needed is still something you can experience in your life. Through other people. Through chosen family. Through the way you learn to treat yourself now.
The story does not end at what you did or did not receive growing up.
You are still allowed softness after all of it 🤍
when i was a tiny baby queer (aka a 24-year-old), i went to my first pride festival probably three months after i kicked ex-gay therapy to the curb and came out to my parents. being the people they are, my parents came with me. they weren’t really sure about this whole gay thing, but they loved me and wanted me to be safe and happy and wanted to be involved in what was important to me, so they came along. (i also think my mother still might have thought i might get drugged or murdered or beaten by a protester of which there were plenty.)
anyway i wanted a memento of my first pride, you know, and this one vendor was selling keyrings, and i liked it, so i bought one. do you remember those italian charm bracelets that were all the rage like 10-15 years ago? it was a keychain like that, and it had a rainbow rooster, a rainbow cat, and then just a rainbow, and so I bought it.
i run into my mom a couple of vendors over and she goes oh you bought something? what’d you get? so i showed her, and i was like, “I’m not sure why it’s a rooster and a cat. Seems kind of random. But I liked the rainbows.”
and my mom, who was some form of minister’s wife for most of my childhood and teenagerhood, stares at me like she thinks i’m joking.
“What?” i say.
“…it’s a cock and a pussy, Jules,” she says flatly, and that is the story of how i died at the age of 24 while attending my first pride festival.
I love how every June this one gets dug up and passed around again, lmao.
oh no is this what we’re doing now
…relic…
*crumbles and blows away on the wind*
someone should write a pmh situation where rocky is trying to tell grace that he loves him and grace doesn’t understand and is using a bunch of other words to describe it till rocky gets mad and grace has to describe what the word love means and rocky just says it over and over to him and then goes ‘grace love earth earth love grace eridian love grace everything love grace’ and grace sobs
“Why they made you all sleep, question?”
“Aw, you know, they expected we’d kill each other. It’s a long way to Tau Ceti.”
“Long way to Erid now. No kill me, please! - Is joke. Am too strong for you.”
“Heh. Yeah you are. Don’t wanna kill you, anyway. I’m - really glad you’re here.”
“Glad too. Mm. Need word.”
“For?”
“Gives good feeling.”
“Like. You like it.”
“Rocky like Grace.”
“Oh. Oh, I like you too, Rock.”
***
“Grace is tired.”
“'m ok, bud. Wanna do a couple more calculations now we’re past the asteroid belt, make sure Mary has our new trajectory nailed down.”
“Ship puts nails in flight path, question?”
“Earth saying.”
“Grace is yawning. All teeth, open throat, look scary. Many times now. Math will be wrong.”
“Yeah, fine, maybe I am tired. What about a movie before bed? You, me, laptop?”
“Watch Atlantis with explorer Thatch.”
“Third time! You really like that one.”
“Is good movie...Grace say ‘like’ for self and for movie. Is too soft word. Need stronger one.”
“Ah. Um. Stronger?”
“Feeling stronger for person. Grace is important.”
“R-respect? Person you take seriously.”
“Rocky feel respect for Grace. Come rest, give respect to brain.”
“Ha. Well. I respect you too, um, a lot, really.”
“Is very good. Show Milo Thatch go on adventure, find friend, get brave.”
***
“Exosuit will be finished soon. Then I can help you like Earth crew would. Help you get better.”
“You help me plenty. I'm just mopey. Um. Homesick, not actually sick. Not your fault.”
“Is actually sick. Thinking machine says humans social animals, need pack, get sick like this when they are not touched. You need hugs and cuddles. Exosuit will make me better crewmate.”
“You’ve always been the best crewmate. You know, I respected my crew, and I guess they respected me, but I never felt I belonged with them. I remember that now. I liked them, but I was lonely with them. Not like with you. ”
“Respect does not mean belonging, question?”
“No – um, no, not really. Means you give weight to what they say, who they are.”
“You don’t have weight. You are light like hatchling.”
“No, that’s – Hey.”
“Teasing you.”
“Yeah, got that. I’m a hatchling?”
“I could lift you, one hand, easy. You are baby. Need new word.”
“For?”
“Person you feel strongly for. More than respect. Belong together. Good to travel a long time together. Still know they are kind when they tease. Feel better with them near.”
“That’s – that’s trust. That’s – yeah.”
“Yes, Rocky trust Grace.”
“Thank you. Um.”
“Finish this exosuit, pick you up in one hand, okay. Show you are baby.”
“Fine. Fine, I trust you too. You finish that thing and you can throw me around all you want.”
***
“So. You like your house?”
“Oh, my God, Rocky. This – this is incredible.”
“The door is good?”
“I really like the door, bud.”
“The bed is too soft?”
“No, it’s great. I know it’s not how you guys sleep, not firm enough to perch properly on, but soft is heaven for sleepy humans.”
“Good, good. Come in here. Surprise! Sprouts from the ship growing in the ‘sunroom.’ Shaped like the don’t go crazy room, huh? But the plants are real this time, see?”
“God, they’re real. This is real. This is – tell Adrian, tell everyone, top-notch human habitat. Incredible choices. You even brought Armando.”
“Good good good. We worried – you might not feel at home here.”
“You really were worried, huh? C’mere, fist bump. Of course I feel at home. Nobody ever worked this hard to set up a habitat for me. Man, and I used to wish Earth hadn’t trusted me so much. Never ever thought I’d make it like this. If five-year-old Grace could see me now! I live in space in a space house and my best friends are space aliens!”
“You are our best alien friend. But you say trust. Earth ‘trusted’ you?”
“Crazy, isn’t it?”
“But they sent you away. They can ‘trust’ and still force you to go?”
“Yeah. Yeah, if the job needs doing.”
“Mm. Hate that. Need a word.”
“What kind of word?”
“Something more than trust. Would not send you away. Would keep you close as long as you are happy. Would feel what you feel – would feel everything together.”
“Love. That’s – love.”
“Rocky love Grace.”
“Oh. O-oh.”
“Love, love, love Grace. Grace – you are crying? You are okay?”
“I’m good, Rock. I’m so good.”
“Love you. Always love. Could hug if you would sit down. Too soft to hug standing – will knock you over. No stronger than a hatchling. Yes, good, thank you. Hugs make you cry more?”
“Make me this happy, pal, that’s just how it goes. I’m going to sit here and cry on your shiny little exosuit, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“Could pick you up with one hand.”
“But you won’t. You’ll let me cry all over you. Because you love me.”
“Leaky human.”
“Love you. Love you, Rock. Love you too.”
#grace thought the universal language was math. he was wrong.
#it’s love. it’s always love
MARI YOU CAN'T JUST LEAVE THIS IN THE TAGS 😭😭😭
@eclipseyeger thank you!! I got you! Here (X)
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
The drama! The skill! The cinematography! It's ART! IT'S ALL ART!!
When my mother forgets a word, she is the queen of coming up with new words. Words that would take a third National Treasure movie to fully decipher. I was talking to her yesterday, and she said this: “You know the time for los jibbities is coming up. You must be so excited!” Oh, is it time for los jibbities already? I must have missed it on my calendar. Are we celebrating something? “Of course! We should all be celebrating, shouldn’t we?” OK, so los jibbities is a happy thing. It’s not like something is giving you the heebie-jeebies, which would have been my one and only guess. “Los heebie-jeebies? Now you’re making things up...and this is my show.” You’re right. The time for los jibbities is coming up. Is this a season? “Yes, the season for love. The season for pride.” OK, los jibbities. “Yeah, sound it out.” Los…jibbities. LGBTs! “Sí, mira cuz you’re gay!” “You couldn’t just say pride season? You couldn’t just… *laughs*
HAPPY LOS JIBBITIES EVERYBODY!!!
The time for Los Jibbities has arrived!
rose landry gets cast as the lead in a film that's basically a lesbian version of heated rivalry, and she immediately tries to find a way to bring shane in as a hockey advisor but there's just no way he can make the time commitment. he can (and does!) help her with her skating in the off-season, but most of his year is tied up in hockey. so she asks if he knows anyone who might be interested in the gig, or if he has any recommendations, and it turns out that he does. it turns out that his boyfriend's childhood best friend knows everything there is to know about hockey, actually, and she is more than happy to point that out to you in great detail, and do you want me to pass along her number???
and rose does. she really, really does.
Immediately casting Gloria Grey as Rose's onscreen heated rival (please pick your Yellowjackets actress of choice to play Gloria, I'm leaning towards Jasmin Savoy Brown).
“roselana would be too much fanservice!” bitch i am hungry. i am STARVING for these two beautiful women to kiss. let them CRACK on a platter in front of me. SERVICE me. SERVICE THE FANS!! THEY ARE DESPERATE!!!
Put them in Shane and Ilya's respective wedding parties in groomsmaid dresses that are actually hot and tasteful, let them liquor them up with a Jackie Pike who is determined to enjoy the child-free reception after sending the flower girls and ring-bearer home to bed with a babysitter, and let them have an ill-advised one night stand that fate allows to flourish into more (Jackie doesn't need to stay for that part. Unless she wants to).