my safe clothing items that I wear day in day out for years and years should never break or rip or wear down. the power of friendship should stop that kind of thing

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
occasionally subtle

#extradirty
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titsay

Janaina Medeiros
will byers stan first human second
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

Love Begins
ojovivo
hello vonnie
Xuebing Du
Peter Solarz
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
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i don't do bad sauce passes
Sade Olutola
cherry valley forever

izzy's playlists!

oozey mess
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@feardrivesstick
my safe clothing items that I wear day in day out for years and years should never break or rip or wear down. the power of friendship should stop that kind of thing
went through the effort of making this gif just to remind everyone of rocky scooting closer to grace on the beach
[ID: A gif from Project Hail Mary of Grace and Rocky sitting together on the biodome's shoreline. Rocky folds his limbs in to "sit" beside Grace, and after a few moments readjusts to tuck himself closer to Grace's side. End ID]
i must not get takeout. takeout is the wallet-killer. takeout is the little-death that brings total obliteration. i will face the kitchen, fridge, and pantry. i will make choices about what to cook and then execute them. when hunger is gone there will be nothing. only i will remain.
“bend over” “bend what? over”
I hate this place
i’m on that weird shit. i’m jacking odd. disturbating. creeping my meat
*scared* what’s gonna happen on june tenth
Well, sir, we had a fishy consignment this morning. I could go nip into the basement and see if I could up trumps with this requisite-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t.
On what part of your body is your biggest scar?
head
torso
arms/hands
legs/feet
a different part of my body
I have 0 scars
furthest we've ever been
Baldur’s Gate 3 experience is going fine i guess
following weird horny furries who are into shit like pooltoys and transformation and stuff is enrichment. the vitamins and minerals of posting
once you get over your ass and realise you will never get some people and that’s ok you are basically immune to right wing fearmongering. otherkin? none of my fucking business
I must not fall victim to disgust. Disgust is the heart-killer. Disgust is the little-death that brings total apathy. I will face my disgust. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the disgust has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.
sonetimes i check up on the demon and i say "hey dude hows it going" and he turns to me saying "i hear the whisper of the earth. you can hear it too, cant you? she calls to us with desperation. wont you answer?" and i just go "okay dude" because how do you respond to that really
Harry du Bois would say this.
they hate us control freaks for making sure everyone else does things the correct way
never thought the dad was hot before
Tumblr speech patterns really are indistinguishable from Calvin and Hobbes, and I'm starting to think that's not a coincidence
Loyalty (1869)
— by Briton Rivière
Loyalty (2025)
— by Ilya Rozanov
People on Tumblr love sharing information about themselves no matter how asinine it is. And I'm the same way. Everybody tell me what the last thing you drank was.
Recently managed to activate the most amazing infodump trap card.
I was driving through Vermont with a friend, and we pulled over at a tiny shop offering Maple Items. We were on the state highway, not the interstate, so "pulling over" meant "squeezing my tiny car into a parking bay the size of a broad highway shoulder."
As we got out of the car, an older woman emerged from behind the building where she had been pruning her roses. She introduced herself as Tammy.
Her shop offered the promised variety of Maple, but also a number of small antiques and a plethora of dog figurines, plaques, and clearly-hand-stitched garden flags.
A huge purple ribbon hung on the wall behind the register, along with many pictures of small dogs. This was no county fair ribbon. It was the size of my torso. The material had the soft sheen of actual silk.
As I placed my purchases on the counter, I asked, "Do you... Breed dogs?"
Yes. She does. She has bred Yorkies for the last 40 years. Her mother bred Yorkies before her. The purple ribbon was from her national championship winning Yorkie.
You may be expecting that the infodump was going to be about Yorkies.
It was not.
It was about 40 years of drama in the Yorkie breeding community. Where – you must understand – the judging at shows is often about who you're in with, not about the dogs. This is especially true when Tammy's opponents win anything.
And Tammy's mother! Well. Phyllis has been on the Yorkie scene since Yorkies were invented. Because of this, many women of equally venerable age hold deep grudges against Phyllis. The sort of grudges that result in episodes of Midsommar Murders.
This led to deep injustices against Phyllis on the part of judges and prevented her dogs from winning so often she retired from the scene. Judging is all about who you're friends with, after all.
After 20 years in hiding, Phyllis – the One True Queen of Yorkie Breeding – hatched a plot. She may have been out of the show circuit, but she was still breeding dogs. She entered an absolutely perfect bitch in the national competition, but sent her with a handler rather than go in person.
None of the usurpers knew who this dog belonged to, and in dog-breeding circles this Does Not Happen. This could have resulted in further injustices, but Phyllis was crafty. She knew this tournament was being judged by a man from the UK, who knew naught of the drama in the US Yorkie Empire.
With these advantages – and being the best dog there – Phyllis's bitch won the highest honor at the show.
Incensed by this insult to their ill-gotten supremacy, the other owners descended on the handler after the show, demanding to know for whom he was working.
"Phyllis," said he.
The name of the overthrown queen evoked horror in the usurpers.
"PHYLLIS!? She's still ALIVE!???"
Yes, Phyllis yet lived, and this bitch – the dog, not the woman – went on to mother Tammy's current dogs. One of whom, Lucy-Fur, is the reincarnation of Tammy's sister (also Lucy). This is certain for two reasons.
Firstly, Sister Lucy absolutely went straight to Hell upon her death, and Lucy-Fur the dog is positively as evil as Sister Lucy was.
Secondly, Sister Lucy always said when she died she wanted to come back as one of Phyllis's dogs because "mom treated the dogs better than us."
In my early-twenties I was addicted to photoshopping my nudes into Hieronymus Bosch paintings, though there came a point when the cohesiveness of the end products began to offend me