She's so whimsical..
Mike Driver
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YOU ARE THE REASON

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2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

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occasionally subtle

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Sweet Seals For You, Always
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@imagineadream
She's so whimsical..
as a former escape room host i highly recommend doing an escape room as a first date. its a great way to learn how ppl react under pressure and how well they collaborate with you right off the bat. also more than once ive seen people enter an escape room as a couple and exit broken up LOL its a fantastic litmus test
sorry to broadcast ur tags but this is also a valuable part of the litmus test! it seems like you learned a lot about how this person makes you feel in their social group. they didn't go out of their way to include you, and neither did their friends. therefore you can come to a pretty good conclusion about how you might feel being part of their life outside of an escape room; someone who doesnt include you or your feelings in a game is likely going to do the same in other situations
An experiment with a clear negative outcome is still a successful experiment.
Tumblr Blog Termination Warning – FOR WRITERS WITH TAGLISTS!
Yesterday my entire blog was terminated TWICE without warning by Tumblr while I was tagging the folks in my Pope taglist in the comments. There was no warning, no email. I just hit 'enter' and boom I got the termination notice.
Almost 10k followers and thousands of fics gone in an instant.
I raised a ticket and an hour later the blog was reactivated. There was no info about what I did wrong but an email that said, it’s been reactivated. I still didn't have one that told me why I had been terminated. Two mins later I went back to the taglist and picked up where I left off with the Pope taglist and immediately, as soon as I clicked 'enter' it happened again.
So, I raised another ticket.
It’s my belief that they’ve activated a bot to stop scammers from tagging loads of folks in those ‘send me money for fake charity’ posts they do, and unfortunately if you have a big taglist you’ll fall into that net too.
I’m not sure how this effects people who put their taglists in the actual post, but I imagine they’ll also be cracking down on that at some point if scammers start to use that method.
I just wanted to make everyone aware so that what happened to me doesn’t happen to other people.
He’s having a pedicure
If you respond to every single bit of positive news with why it is bad or the people involved are bad, you will not only mentally kill yourself but everyone around you.
Especially if we're dealing with country-level shit. There's not one totally good country on the planet. Not one. Okay? So if you respond to a victory in the US or something cool that Norway did or positive news out of Germany with "yeah but [country] is a nightmare actually because [things that are happening]," you are not doing anybody any favors.
You're just being a tar pit.
And don't fucking turn this into apologia for the bad shit countries do. That's not what I'm fucking saying.
Y'all need to learn to take a goddamned W every so often, and to let other people enjoy the occasional W, or we will all mentally fucking die.
princess treatment w/ choso ! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
choso is a firm believer that pretty girls like you shouldn’t have to do anything.
it’s not something he’s ever said out loud, not in those exact words, but you see it in the way he kneels at your feet when your evening slippers are pinching, in the way his hands steady your ankles as he slides them off.
you see it in the careful, reverent way he unties the laces of your dress at night, his knuckles brushing your spine, his breath warm against the nape of your neck.
"cho, i can do that myself," you protest for the hundredth time, reaching for the hairbrush on your vanity. you’ve just returned from a work dinner, your face aching from smiling, your scalp tender from the weight of your responsibilities.
"don't be like that," he says softly, taking the brush from your hand. he’s already behind you, his reflection meeting yours in the mirror. he’s wearing a simple black sweater now, his pigtails undone, but he still looks at you like you’re the only thing in the room worth seeing. "let me help you."
"you’re going to spoil me rotten," you murmur, but you’re already sinking back against him, your eyes drifting shut as he starts working the brush through your hair in slow, even strokes. the bristles scrape gently against your scalp and you make a small, involuntary sound of pleasure.
"that’s the point," he says, his voice low. he sets the brush down and reaches for the cloth and cleansing oil. "you're too beautiful to even lift a finger, baby."
he’s wiping the rouge from your cheeks now, the kohl from your eyes. his touch is so gentle, so methodical, like he’s polishing something precious. you let him tilt your chin up, let him clean away the day’s mask. when he’s done, he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.
"cmon, bed." he commands. not harshly—never harshly—but with the quiet authority of a man who knows exactly what you need.
you stand, your hand in his, and let him lead you to the mattress. he undresses you slowly, layer by layer, the silk pooling at your feet. when you’re down to your thin shift, he pulls back the covers and tucks you in like you’re something fragile.
"sleep," he whispers.
but you catch his wrist. you’re not sleepy. not anymore. the tiredness has shifted into something else, something warm and heavy low in your belly.
"stay," you plead.
he hesitates. "you’re tired."
"i want you," you clarify, your thumb stroking the inside of his wrist. "but i’m... i’m exhausted. but— but i want you— but i don't want to do anything—"
something dark flickers in his eyes. understanding. hunger. devotion.
"then don’t," he says. he climbs onto the bed, fully clothed, and crawls up your body until he’s hovering over you. "don’t do anything. don’t even think. just let me make you feel good."
[𝝑𝑒] :: true form!sukuna finds out his favorite pregnant concubine is injured :: tags. fluff, angst, reader gets called ‘woman’ :: ac. @/greybookman on x
you want that damn scroll.
one of the old texts on yokai lore sukuna left half-unrolled on a high shelf days ago. boredom and the restless energy of pregnancy drives you to it. standing on the tips of your toes, with one hand braced against the lacquered cabinet, you stretch up.
your belly, round and full at nearly eight months, shifts heavily. the baby kicks hard as if protesting.
“just... a little more—“
the wood creaks. your foot slips on the woven tatami mat and then the world tilts.
olderbf!nanami headcannons ! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
olderbf!nanami who never rushes you, no matter how impatient you get. you’re standing in front of your closet, frustrated, pulling out dresses and tossing them onto the bed.
"i have nothing to wear," you groan. he’s sitting in the armchair by the window, his tie already loosened, watching you with that calm, steady gaze.
"we have forty-five minutes," he says, his voice low and even. "take your time."
you huff, turning to face him. "you’re always so patient. it’s annoying."
he smiles, small and fond. "i’ve waited forty years to find you. i can wait forty-five minutes for you to pick a dress."
olderbf!nanami who always makes sure you eat before you leave the house. you’re running late, your heels clicking on the kitchen floor as you grab your purse.
"we’re going to be late," you say, already halfway to the door.
he steps in front of you, a plate in his hand—toast with avocado, a soft-boiled egg, sliced fruit arranged neatly. "eat first."
you stare at him. "nanami, we don’t have time—"
"we have time," he interrupts gently, setting the plate on the counter. "you’re not leaving this house on an empty stomach. sit."
you sit. you always do. because when he looks at you like that—like taking care of you is the most important thing in the world—you can’t say no.
olderbf!nanami who never raises his voice, even when you’re being difficult. you’re arguing about something stupid—where to go for dinner, maybe, or whether you should cancel plans to stay in—and your voice is getting louder, your hands gesturing wildly.
he just stands there, hands in his pockets, watching you. "you’re not even listening!" you snap.
"i am," he says quietly. "i’m listening to every word. and when you’re done, we’ll talk about it calmly. like adults."
you deflate, your anger fizzling out. "you’re too kind to me," you mutter.
he steps forward, his hands finding your waist. "you’re worth the kindness."
olderbf!nanami who takes his time undressing you, like every layer is a gift he’s unwrapping. you’re in his bedroom, the lights dimmed, and you’re already reaching for his belt, impatient, wanting him now.
"slow down," he murmurs, catching your hands. "we have all night."
you pout. "i don’t want to wait."
its probably a normal sign for the economy that all of my adulthood fantasies are like "imagine having your own kitchen living room and bathroom to decorate" "what if i could get on a train" "maybe one day i could purchase a sturdy pair of shoes" "i should save and invest in a single bicycle"
Wei Weaving is a Chinese artist
Another point that reminds me of my privilege in this world is when I think about the fact that we sell the cure for tuberculosis to people to give to their dogs for a UTI. Millions of people literally die every year because they can't access this medication and I'm giving it to people to shove down their dogs' throats to make them stop peeing in the house. It's one of the more expensive antibiotics and people always whine about the price but then it's not their daughter they have to watch slowly suffocate as bacteria turns her lungs into swiss cheese. It's not their father that coughs and coughs and coughs until he's spitting up blood.
The deadliest infectious disease in human history is cured by the same packet of chewable tabs individually packed in foil. It comes in beef flavor so your dog won't resist taking its meds as much. It's like a hundred bucks for 30 tablets on pretty much any pet pharmacy.
It makes me think about medicine scarcity and how it's all fake in order to get enough capital that you can have individuals with higher net worth than entire countries. And in the mean time, hundreds of millions of people are dead because they don't drive the bottom line.
Bonus: If I buy a book I get to keep it! The publisher can't turn up at my house at random and confiscate all the books I bought.
actually fucking disgusting that glasses cost any money like if you actually think about it for more than a few seconds it is so unconscionably inhumane. this goes for things like insulin and mobility aids and hearing aids too ofc but fuck man, fucking glasses? the thing you need to fucking see? its genuinely sickening and inhumanly evil that those cost ANYTHING.
I really like how the scientology speedrunning trend is developing, in this clip we see that the participants are
Not deterred by the closed door
Working as a group
Protecting their identities
Inflicting material costs to the institution via property destruction
Getting away at the end
These ideas were not all here from the beginning. They are genuinely gaining experience that can be applied elsewhere
The church of scientology is on tumblr and they are sending me anon asks telling me that they can't even commit to reporting a post
I think it sucks that you have to go to so many different kinds of doctor to take care of yourself. It's the 21st century. I should be able to go to a single office where they scan me with a big xerox machine and tell me what I'm allergic to and why my tummy hurts and if I have any cancer or cavities or if my glasses prescription has changed. And then I should get a sticker.