Y'all Don't Understand How Much I Want A Bf ☹️ Like I Want Somebody To Want Me And Like Me And Like

tumblr gf mike faist come back i miss you

big fan of whatever they had going on

Josh O'Connor | W Magazine (2025)

let’s talk about art’s name. as much as i love the art-is-his-full-name truthers, i think it’s highly unlikely. and before yall say this is a silly detail HEAR ME OUT.

i think art was likely named after arthur ashe, one of the most (if not THE most) famous tennis players of all time.

for one, ashe would have been at peak popularity during art’s parents’ lifetimes (late 60s and throughout 70s). if you’re a tennis fan, you’ll know that ashe is far too famous of a player for a character in a tennis movie to not clearly be named after him.

if he wasn’t named after ashe, i do believe it was still an intended associated by the screenwriter. we’re supposed to inadvertently compare art to this famous tennis champion.

i do have to mention the other interesting aspect of art being tied to ashe in this way — ashe was married to a woman, but during his lifetime and since his death in ‘93, his sexuality has been the subject of a lot of speculation because of his AIDS diagnosis. while this is not to say ashe was gay or bi, i’m instead saying that i believe naming art after a man who was famously married to a woman while the target of speculation about his sexuality is an interesting possibility.

that’s my ramble of the day.

diva in town

so cool that challengers won the oscars. every one. all the oscars. good for them

I like to think about Camp Half Blood and how its probably full of old hidden kid structures

It's an ancient sacred valley, that has trained and housed children for thousands of years, many of those kids coming from artisan backgrounds and gods. Kids build things, kids make forts and rope swings and tree houses. Kids need hidy holes and pretend play boxes and secrets.

I like to think about walking in the CHB woods, off the trail in a place you think dryads have only ever been to. And then you come to this tree with wooden planks nailed to it. You look up into this old oak and above you is a few more boards, just enough to make good seating hidden in the branches. There are initials carved in the bark, no one you recognize, and doodles on the boards. You don't know who built it or when, was it put up last year or fifty years ago, but someone dragged 2x4s miles and miles through the trees and made a place just for them. Your reminded that this place has always been here, that so many half-bloods have come and gone, but all throughout the valley there are still echoes of them

‘I was here’ says the little jerry-rigged bridge over the creek, ‘I mattered’ says the rope swing into the lake, ‘Even if I'm forgotten’ says the crumbling fort in the woods, ‘I left something behind’ says the initials in the tree