Rough day of being cute
Cosimo Galluzzi
Acquired Stardust

Love Begins
KIROKAZE

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

Andulka

#extradirty
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
dirt enthusiast

Product Placement
Game of Thrones Daily

titsay
hello vonnie

Kaledo Art
Xuebing Du

tannertan36
Sweet Seals For You, Always

pixel skylines
styofa doing anything
Jules of Nature

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@tubb-o
Rough day of being cute

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reblog if your name isn't Ashley.
2,121,566 people are not Ashley and counting!
We’ll find you Ashley.
This post is scandalous.
reblogging because ashley cant.
If you scroll past this I am going to assume your name is Ashley.
If you scroll past this
I am going to assume
your name is Ashley.
Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.
Equality or death
The rule in my house that I literally abide by to this day was that one person does the splitting, the other person chooses which one they want. So if I scoop out the mac n cheese into the bowls, my brother is the one who gets to choose which bowl to take. This system does not work beyond 2 people.
Title: A Bottle of Beer Goes a Long Way
At the bar. Again. But this time, not a drop of abestine had touched Lucas's lips. Instead, his eyes were on Andrew. He knew Andrew; he was Q's kid after all. And the Royal Family was no less than popular. As high as his family title was, Andrew seemed disheveled now.
His black hair was a mess, fluffed up in all the wrong places. The collar of his shirt was tattered. And his gray eyes had long since dulled, from a iridescent light gray to a slightly darker, harder shade. His lips remained in a frown, only moving to accommodate the bottle he kept bringing to them.
Which was another thing; Andrew wasn't here to chat, not in the least. The look in his eyes made it obvious that the bottle in his hand wasn't the first, and certainly not the last. Even Joan, the bartender, gave him a sad look every time he passed by Andrew's seat.
Lucas watched Andrew with keen eyes, only flicking them away when he thought he'd been caught. He knew it would be better to just talk to him, and not just observe. But it was what he was used to, especially with new people. Though, something about him seemed different. Maybe it was just because of the way Andrew just seemed so–
"Hey."
Lucas looked up, pulled from his train of thought. He hadn't realized Andrew had moved his seat closer. Nor had he realized that he wanted to speak to him.
"Uhm- hey." Lucas's cheeks dusted a soft purple as he spoke, embarrassment filling him.
"Can I buy you a drink?" Andrew's words were slurred at the edges, but it was easy enough to tell what he meant.
Lucas shook his head, resting his cheek in his hand.
"I have things to do tonight," he said, stifling a little yawn. "And shouldn't you as well? I mean, you must have someone or something to go home to.. you have kids and a wife, don't you?"
Lucas noticed the way Andrew gritted his teeth at /wife/, and it only made him more curious.
"Kids," Andrew took another sip of his drink. "No wife. Had one, once. But, it was never really… official."
Lucas nodded. "Is she the reason why you're here?"
Andrew scoffed, twirling the now empty bottle in his hands. "Not the only reason," Lucas raised a brow, and it only seemed to cause Andrew to continue. "I have to attend court soon. And I don't have a lawyer."
"What a shame..." Lucas mumbled. "I've been told I have a way with words, perhaps I could be a lawyer."
"You?" Andrew cocked his head with a teasing grin. "You don't even know what I'm in for."
Lucas shrugged. "You can tell me when you're sober. Then we can decide prices, times…"
"You seem very quick witted."
"Alas, I admit it."
"I bet you'll be quite the lawyer."
"So that's a yes?"
Andrew nodded, waving his hand to order another drink.
"And really, you should drink with me. What more could you have to do?"
Lucas gave a little sigh, watching Andrew take a deep swig of the fresh bottle. "The night is young. Many things can be done in the calm light of the moon."
The only response he was given was an eye roll. He let his mind wander for just a few moments more, before deciding. He looked up at Andrew, and snatched his drink from his loose grip. He took a quick gulp, a little shiver going down his spine at the warmth that spread through him as the alcohol slipped down his throat.
He rested the bottle back on the counter when he was finished, a satisfied smile on his lips. Andrew looked slightly stunned, but snapped out of it in seconds. Lucas was given another eye roll as he took the bottle back.
"So?" Andrew questioned.
Just as Lucas was about to answer, a soft voice was heard from the doorway of the small bar.
"Papa?"

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Lost Sunshine: Fragments of Loss
warnings: mourning, character death, hurt no comfort (yet)
mentions: @auggient
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August was dead.
It was a beautiful day when the news was broken to him.
A person approached Princey with a hesitant expression, their eyes filled with sorrow and sympathy. They opened their mouth to speak, their voice trembling slightly as they broke the news.
"I'm sorry...found... Auggie... gone.."
Truthfully, most of their words didn't register in the 19 year old's head, only a select few words actually processed, and as the implications laid out, the words hung in the air, heavy and unbearable, piercing through Princey's heart like a thousand sharp needles.
Princey's blank stare met the gaze of the messenger, his mind struggling to process the devastating blow. For a prolonged moment, silence hung between them, the weight of the truth threatening to crush Princey's spirit. The other person shifted uncomfortably under the weight of his unreadable eyes, the pain and disbelief reflected in their own expression.
Suddenly, a grateful smile tugged at Princey's lips, his façade of composure barely holding together. "I see, thank you for letting me know." His voice betraying none of the anguish that clawed at his heart.
As he stood by his yard, the world seemed different somehow. The sun still shone brightly, casting its warm glow over the familiar surroundings. The birds chirped a beautiful melody from somewhere in the tree with the swing he had built for his family.
How could everything appear so normal when his world had shattered into a million irreparable pieces?
He quickly turned around, his steps growing heavier. Turning away from the sympathetic gaze, Princey retreated further into the sanctuary of his home. The once welcoming abode now felt cold and desolate, echoing the hollowness that had consumed him. He closed the door behind him, shutting out the world, yet unable to escape the relentless grip of reality.
Denial settled within Princey like a familiar companion, wrapping him in its deceptive embrace. He couldn't bring himself to accept the reality of August's absence. It felt impossible, inconceivable.
August was his little brother, his baby bird, his sunshine, his fledgling.
They were supposed to be together, sticking by each other's side like they always had ever since they were kids. This couldn't be the end. It just couldn't.
August was actually dead, it had turned out. The bird hybrid didn't want to believe it, but the enderian hybrid hadn’t come around yet, hadn’t left his basement, hadn’t come banging on Princey's trapdoor in the middle of the night demanding entertainment and clinging to him.
Days turned into weeks, and Princey found solace in the numbness that denial provided. He busied himself with trivial tasks, the mundane routines of his daily life. He collected more resources, ventured out almost daily to the most daunting places to get the things he didn't truly need, and came back to hand out his findings to his family members.
But behind his facade of composure, a storm brewed, threatening to engulf him in its relentless fury.
He avoided the spaces they once shared, the memories too painful to confront. The swing in the tree stood abandoned, a haunting reminder of their laughter and carefree moments. Princey couldn't bear to look at it, the weight of guilt and regret crushing his spirit.
The nights were the worst. Alone in his bed, Princey's mind would wander to memories of August. He would recall their adventures, their secret jokes, and their dreams for the future. The tears that had been held back during the day would spill forth, silently staining his pillow as he clutched onto the fragments of a life that was no more.
But even in his grief, Princey couldn't escape the tendrils of guilt that wound their way around his shattered heart. The last time the brothers ever truly had a conversation was before his son's wedding. They had shared a heartfelt moment, the younger confessing to him about the fear of going to sleep due to the transportation to another place, and the older promising to protect him.
And then he blew everything up. He doesn't remember what happened. He just remembers staring into August's eyes with a chuckle as he plays the music, before noticing a look of fear, panic and betrayal on his face as he flew back with Clover and Sap.
Ever since that day, their relationship had been strained. They couldn't look each other in the eyes, and often they'd find themselves in awkward silenced whenever they encountered one another, which led to the two eventually just avoiding seeing each other altogether to avoid the obvious need for communication about what had happened.
Princey had planned to apologize, to sit down and have a proper talk with him. He had everything prepared, planned everything out perfectly to ensure he was ready for every possible outcome.
Nothing would've prepared him for the death of his younger brother.
He questioned himself now endlessly, tormented by 'what ifs' and 'what could have beens". Had he done enough? Could he have protected August? The weight of responsibility bore down on him, threatening to break him completely.
As the weeks turned into a month, the denial slowly began to crack. Reality seeped through the fissures, piercing Princey's fragile armor. He couldn't deny the truth any longer.
His sunshine was gone, and no amount of denial could change that.
And so, one lonely evening, Princey found himself standing in the home they had shared. The walls whispered their shared memories, the shelves lined with tokens of their bond. He reached out to touch a photograph, his trembling fingers tracing the contours of August's smiling face.
A wave of sorrow crashed over Princey, his denial crumbling like sand through his fingertips. The dam he had erected to hold back his grief burst open, and he broke. His cries echoed through the empty room, his anguish reverberating off the walls. He wept for the loss, for the void that could never be filled, apologies falling from his lips in a desperate flow of heartbreak.
"I'm sorry..
I'm sorry..
I'm sorry sunshine, please,
please come back,
I'm sorry.."
In that moment, Princey allowed himself to feel the depth of his love and the weight of his loss. The denial had served its purpose, shielding him momentarily from the unbearable pain. But now, as the truth consumed him, he surrendered to the devastation, knowing that only through acceptance could he begin to heal.
And so, Princey wept, his tears mingling with the memories that lingered in every corner of his home. The world outside continued to move forward, oblivious to the torment that consumed Princey's soul. Time marched on, but for him, it stood still, frozen in the moment of August's departure.
Princey's grief became a silent companion, never leaving his side. The weight of guilt pressed upon him like a boulder, eroding his spirit with each passing day. He tormented himself with relentless questions, replaying every interaction, every word spoken, searching for the signs he had missed. If only he had been more attentive, more present, more upfront, braver, perhaps he could have protected August from the cruel hands of fate.
The once vibrant halls of his home echoed with emptiness. The swing in the tree hung still, a poignant reminder of the laughter that would never grace its seat again. Princey's footsteps grew heavier, each one a reminder of the absence that haunted him. Every corner held memories that simultaneously brought comfort and anguish, amplifying the ache in his heart.
Alone in his home, Princey retreated into the depths of his pain. The world outside continued to move, but his world had shattered into a million fragmented pieces. Friends and loved ones offered their condolences, their well-intentioned words falling on ears that heard but couldn't truly listen.
How could they understand the magnitude of his loss, the guilt that gnawed at his conscience?
In the solitude of his grief, Princey allowed himself to remember. He delved into the treasure trove of memories he had shared with August. The playful moments, the dreams they had woven together, the unconditional brotherly love that had bound them. Each memory felt like a bittersweet embrace, offering solace and breaking his heart all at once.
The realization of August's absence settled into Princey's bones like an icy chill. The denial that had provided fleeting respite now betrayed him, exposing him to the full force of his grief. It was in this vulnerable state, in the depths of his anguish, that Princey understood the fragility of life, the transient nature of joy. He yearned for one more chance, one more moment to hold August close, to flick his forehead every time it poked him, to grin widely with warmth at the exasperation of his younger brother towards his jokes, to sing him to sleep with his guitar, to tell him how deeply he was loved.
And so, Princey sat amidst the remnants of their shared life, the remnants of his shattered heart. With each passing day, the cracks in his façade grew wider, the weight of his grief threatening to consume him. He clung to the fragments of hope, seeking solace in the memories that remained.
tumblr being all adults nowadays is so funny because my mutuals are either unemployed chainsmokers or Ezra, Bioengineering PHD Candidate at University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill
one of the important lessons to learn about adult life is that the gap between an unemployed chainsmoker and a bioengineering phd candidate is actually not that large
i love logging in from a new device and receiving an email about it makes me feel like i'm trying to enter some vip fancy building and when they stop me at security i go "actually... I Own The Place"
i was supposed to go to bed an hour ago dont tell my mom
my mom says i have to go to bed now which one of u fuckers told
my mom says i have
to go to bed now which one
of u fuckers told
Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.
change that word back into meaners right now you sinner
WHAT IS THIS
I’m so emotional about dinosaur stuffed animals,,, there are these creatures, extinct long before any of us were alive, but we found their bones and their eggs and their footprints. And we made drawings and models of what they could’ve looked like. And we made them into stuffed animals so we could hold them. We made them soft so we could love them. I’m sobbing

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My three year old knows about trans and now wants surgery to become it!
listen i know tumblr is the Lie On The Internet For Attention website but this is just sad
It's obvious that anon is clueless and making shit up, but what gets me about things like this is that it's not hard to have a conversation with a child if they do feel this way. "At your age, there are no surgeries. But if you want, you can pick out clothes that feel nice, you can use pronouns that feel right, and you can even pick a different name for us to call you. When you're older, if you still feel like it's the right choice, we'll talk about it then."
I have a kid who lived as a girl for a while because he thought he was trans. It was for like a year. I spoke about the ignorant reaction from the education system at a government committee, but that was the only downside. Nothing bad happened. He wore dresses, grew his hair out, took the name I would have given him if he was born a girl, and then said "I think I'm a boy after all" and we changed it all back. He wasn't hurt by it. And if he really was trans, this would have made him feel confident and safe and loved.
Now, years later, his sister and he openly talk to me about everything. Just a few weeks ago they happily opened up to me about if they like girls or boys or both, and I didn't have that with my parents as a queer kid.
Transphobes are scared of made up problems. Just nothing.
so Lady is a name. and Guy is a name. can you imagine some couple who are just lady and guy
Like Lady Dimitrescu and Guy Fieri?
EXACTLY Like Lady Dimitrescu And Guy Fieri
i just found out that nonbinary/genderqueer people in the 80s and 90s were called "gender outlaws" and i think its a crime that we dont use that term more
inspired by my own deceiving eyes
source: motherthemountain

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Okay wait this brings up a point Dr. Richard D Wolff (americas leading Marxist economist) brought up in a lecture a while ago; economics needs an ethics review board.
Every other major discipline has an ethics review board. If you're a doctor and prescribe a patient a lethal dose of the wrong medicine, you get disciplined. If you're a biologist and commit animal cruelty, you get disciplined. If you're a psychologist and conduct an unethical study, you get disciplined. If you're an engineer and neglect safety standards when building a bridge, you get disciplined.
But if you're an economist and your policies actively harm people in a demonstrable way, nothing happens. It's all just a 'matter of opinion'
American and other western economists advised the Russian government on how to run the country following the end of the ussr and its estimated that the economic policies they recommended directly lead to the deaths of millions of people. And not a single economist so much as even lost their job.
Economics degrees also need courses on ethics and the real human impact of economic policies so that economists can learn how to avoid harm in the first place.
qsmp designs!!