me: please don’t panic and overanalyze things again
brain: how bout i do a n y w a y
🪼

oozey mess
Show & Tell
YOU ARE THE REASON
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

Kaledo Art
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

Janaina Medeiros
Mike Driver
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

ellievsbear
art blog(derogatory)
Stranger Things
DEAR READER
Peter Solarz
Monterey Bay Aquarium

PR's Tumblrdome
noise dept.
almost home
seen from Netherlands
seen from Germany
seen from China

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Spain

seen from Türkiye

seen from Argentina
seen from Netherlands
seen from Brazil
seen from Türkiye

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Poland

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
@buddyisabeast
me: please don’t panic and overanalyze things again
brain: how bout i do a n y w a y

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
“I love her because of her quirks, not in spite of them.”
— Matthew Fisher on Tamed by Emma Chase (via suspend)
i’m ok
i’m ok
i’m ok
*starts crying*
Listening to I’ll Never Love Again.
I love genuinely innocent “boys will be boys.” Just saw a guy come out of a frat house to poke a pair of jeans they’d left outside - they were frozen solid, and as soon as he confirmed that, like twenty more boys came rushing out of the house going “YOOOOOOOOOO”
I heard grunting outside my window the other night and there were four boys struggling to push this giant snowball (like 7 foot diameter) down the sidewalk.
I once lost my keys at a frat house.
My drunk ass had actually walked home without them, pounded on my apartment door, gotten let in by my rightfully-disgruntled roommate, and proceeded to pass out on the couch. Apparently I puked in the toilet before passing out. I do not remember this part.
The next morning, I schlepped back to the frat house. I stood there, right in front of the front door. This was a novel experience for me. I’d never been at a frat house in broad daylight before.
A boy, presumably, of the house, asked me what I was doing.
“I lost my keys in here last night,” I called back. “I was seeing if I could go in and look for them?”
He opened the door and gestured for me to come in.
“Go wherever you want.”
I’d never seen a frat house post-party before. Wandering up the stairs and through the halls, I was surrounded by hungover and still-drunk frat boys stumbling around in their socks and sandals and gym shorts, seeking out food and showers like moths to a porch light. A few of them threw puzzled glances my way. I’m sure they thought I was some post-bacchanalia hallucination.
I entered one room where a boy was drunkenly watching some Old Yeller-esque movie on a tiny TV in the corner of his room from his bed.
“Do you like dog movies?” he asked, voice all mumbly from grogginess and also from the fact that his face was squished against his pillow and half-buried by his blanket.
I told him I did.
He mumbled again, pleased, and asked what I was doing. I told him I was looking for my keys.
“Sorry, I haven’t seen any keys around here.”
I didn’t doubt him.
Twenty minutes had passed. I’d searched just about every bedroom and nuclear-waste-dump-site of a bathroom in that house. I’d given up on ever finding my keys and was prepared to beg my roommates’ forgiveness and get a new set copied.
As I stood there in the hallway, silently bewailing my predicament, a particularly-burly frat boy approached me.
“You need help with something?”
“I lost my keys here last night and I can’t find them, I’ve looked everywhere.”
“What do they look like? I’ll put it into the group chat.” He was already pulling out his phone.
No one ever checks a group chat, I thought, but what the hell. It was worth a shot. “Um, it’s just a ring of keys. The keychain is a pink plastic cat, though, like yea big. Like bright pink, you can’t miss it.”
He nodded, presumably typing this description faithfully into the group chat.
“Alright, I sent the message out. Good luck.”
And with that, he turned and left.
A few moments later, I heard a distant thundering. It was coming from upstairs, and it was getting louder and louder. One assumes that how I felt in that moment was how Simba felt seeing the wildebeest stampede through the ravine as a horde of large young men all thundered down the stairs, making a beeling for me.
“Someone tell the girl!” One of them shouted, faceless in the mob. “Girl! Hey, GIRL!!! We found your keys, girl!!!”
They circled around me. I hadn’t felt that small since I was maybe eleven years old. One of them split himself off from the crowd.
“Are these -” he pulled out a ring of keys from his pocket, “your keys?”
And lo, there was the distinctive bright millennial pink cat keychain dangling off the ring.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Oh my god, yes.”
“EYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!”
The cheer went up.
Turns out he found them in the bathroom upstairs. I thanked them again profusely. There was a scattered round of “no problems” and then, just as suddenly as they descended, they all dispersed, like ships in the night.
Sitting at a table with my hands folded in front of me and a placid expression on my face while an adult man passionately and incoherently argues with me while a female coworker hides a smirk behind her hand and winks at me is… an experience.
I’m glad you got to have such a quintessentially female experience. All of us have… a Look™️ we share when a man is blathering at one of us and thinks we should be hanging on every word.
I don’t think I can describe the look on his face when I explained that “logic" is a value-neutral system of getting from a premise to a conclusion, and that “stupid” human behaviors can still have consistent internal logic.
“There’s nothing logical about wearing jeans with holes in them!” he insisted.
“That depends,” I said. “Do you accept that wearing ‘fashionable’ clothing aids in securing social acceptance, and that ‘ripped-up jeans’ are generally regarded as fashionable? Then saying that ‘wearing ripped-up jeans helps gain social acceptance’ is logically sound, even if you and I both think that ripped-up jeans are tacky, or that this kind of social acceptance isn’t a desirable goal. Those are subjective opinions.”
He really didn’t like that. He also didn’t like when I told him that he cannot make a valid counterpoint to what I have to say if he interrupts me before I can say it.
My hero
You also win for having enough self control not asking him how he puts his legs into his jeans if they have no holes.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Arthur Morgan, what a man
Their names, ranks and kills in case people went to know;
First row – Guard Staff Sergeant, VN Stepanova: 20 kills, Guard Sgt JP Belousova: 80 kills, Guard Sgt AE Vinogradova: 83 kills.
Second row – Guard Lieutenant EK Zhibovskaya: 24 kills, Guard Sgt KF Marinkin: 79 kills, Guard Sgt OS Marenkina: 70 kills.
Third row – Guard Lieutenant NP Belobrova: 70 kills, Lieutenant N. Lobkovsky: 89 kills, Guard Lieutenant VI Artamonova: 89 kills, Guard Staff Sergeant MG Zubchenko: 83 kills.
Forth row – Guard Sergeant, NP Obukhova: 64 kills, Guard Sergeant, AR Belyakova 24 kills.
Total number of confirmed kills: 775. Photo taken in Germany, May 4, 1945.
And this hasn’t been made into a movie or mini series?
The cool thing is, there’s still one person missing: Lyudmila Pavlichenko.
She was one of the deadliest snipers of World War II, and is regarded as one of the deadliest snipers of all time. Over the course of one year (June 1941-June 1942) she racked up a count of 309 kills, 36 of which were enemy snipers. Her prescence in the picture alone would have brought the total number of kills from 755 to 1064.
Goddamn.
Icons.
Every one of them.
Reason no.1 to learn another language: the enthusiasm of native speakers when they discover you speak their language
Hello 💁🏼♀️

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Today I feel like the dad from coraline
Even the idea that there is a video where an American man rape a kid makes me sick. Ashton Kutcher is doing a great job by using his power and privilege to raise awareness about human trafficking. Every parent dreams of the bright, happy and SAFE future to his/her child. This guy tries to change this country, this world into a better one. This Hollywood celebrity woke up and tried to draw the government’s attention to this very crucial problem of child trafficking.
Honestly God bless Ashton Kutcher and anybody else who is actively engaged in the fight against child trafficking. People telling him it’s “not his place” can stick it up their ass, this is a real problem and he’s actually doing something about it, and I applaud him wholeheartedly.
Reblog and see if you get a color
PURPLE: I don’t talk to you but I really love your blog.
FUSHIA: I wish we were friends in real life.
GREY: You make me go asdfghjkl.
RED: I love you with a burning passion.
GREY 2: I wish you would notice me.
PINK: I think you should follow me.
TEAL: We have a lot in common.
BLUE: You are my tumblr crush.
ORANGE: I don’t like your blog.
YELLOW: **** ME PLEASE.
WHITE: MARRY ME PLEASE.
GREEN: I think you’re cute.
BLACK: I would date you.
BROWN: I don’t like you.
A guy grabbed my butt this weekend and now I’m having sex dreams about him. What the crap.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
*organizes life at 3am*
i love laying the FUCK down and sleeping