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almost home

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Sade Olutola

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Keni

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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
YOU ARE THE REASON
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
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AnasAbdin

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@mylilcorner
It's Internet Explorer's last day, so it's mandatory to post this relic.
Darling, listen to me.I made my choice. Duty to my country over love.It’s what I’ve always done, it seems. It was drummed into me my whole life. Now I’ve lost the only man I ever really loved. Mia, I want you to make your choices as a woman. Don’t make the same mistakes I did.Make your own mistakes. There’ll be plenty of them, believe me. Now, you can go back into that church and get married, or you can walk away. Whatever choice you make, Iet it come from your heart.
The Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement (2004) dir. Garry Marshall
For the ask game maybe 16 or 30?
16-Forced to watch
30- On your knees
—
“Whumpee!” Caretaker yelled out, jerking against the guards holding them in place as Whumper led them into the room. Whumpee looked pale, drawn. Terrified. Their eyes flickered over to Caretaker as they threw their weight against arms holding them back. It was as good as throwing themself against a brick wall. Whumpee flinched back, and Caretaker could just barely make out Whumper’s lips moving slightly right beside their ear. They wanted to tear them apart. They couldn’t imagine what they were saying to make Whumpee look so terrified, but they knew they wanted to make sure they would never lay their eyes on Whumpee again.
“Well, Caretaker, I told you I’d be right back.” Whumper raised their voice, making Whumpee cower away from them. They wrapped a hand around Whumpee’s neck and jerked them back upright, back pressed against their chest.
“Let them go!” Caretaker couldn’t stop themself from fighting to get to Whumpee, even though they knew it was useless. They were outnumbered and already weak. “They don’t have any part in this.”
Prompt 5
They were dying. They were dying and there was nothing he could do about it. They were laying limply in his lap, their warmth slowly fading and their skin growing paler and paler. He suddenly felt a cold hand brush weakly against his arm.
“Can you tell me a story?” they croaked, their voice scratched from hours of screaming and crying. Tears streamed down his face as he began to tell his friend their favorite tale.
“Once upon a time, long ago…”
I don't know if you take requests but I had an idea: A had a rough, exhausting day and doesn't realize they're coming down with something until they break down crying in B's arms. While B is holding them, they notice how warm they are like "A, you're burning up!"
i am very slow, when it comes to requests, but I DO take them 😂thank you so much for waiting - I hope you enjoy!
-------
A staggers into the kitchen of their small home they share with B, shedding their coat on the floor and flicking on the electric kettle to make some tea. Their whole day couldn't have gone any worse. For starters, the heat was out at their office all day on one of the coldest days of the year, and they'd spent all day trying to keep their fingers warm on the tiny desk space heater. (Spoiler alert: it didn’t work, and they were still cold.)
Making matters worse, today had been the day of their huge presentation at their job with some of their team members. But they'd made a mistake on a chart on one of their slides – and the leader of their company had pointed it out in front of the rest of the staff.
Humiliated, they'd slunk back to their seat and fought back tears for the entire rest of the meeting. And during the last hour, their laptop had crashed and lost half of a report that was due next week - and they didn't know how it was all going to get done in time.
As the water rolls to a boil, they reach their hand up to grab a mug from the cupboard. But as their fingers close around the handle, a wave of dizziness washes over them, and the ceramic slips from their hand and crashes to the floor.
"A?" B bounds into the kitchen to see A, standing over the shards of broken pottery. "You alright?"
A's lower lip trembles as they shrug weakly, and the smallest hiccup of a sob escapes their lips as they helplessly hold out their arms.
B immediately navigates around the broken pieces and makes their way to A, curling their arms around their shoulders as they cry. "Shhh. It's okay. It's just a mug. It's okay."
"Today was awful," A sobs, voice hitching as they try and catch their breath. "So, so awful." They bury their face in B's neck, and B is stunned by the sudden heat on their bare skin.
They lift up their hand and press it gently against A's forehead, and their fears are confirmed. "A, you're burning up." But A just curls in closer, and B feels the shiver ripple through their shoulders.
"M'cold," A mumbles.
"Shhh. Let's go lay down." B slips their arm around A's shoulder and gently guides them to the couch, easing them down and tucking a throw pillow under their head. Grabbing a couple throw blankets, they gently tuck one, then the other over their curled up form.
“Water’s hot. Just give me a sec and I’ll be back.” A’s too tired to protest, so they just curl deeper under the covers for a few minutes until B returns with the tea.
“Lean forward.” A sits up, expecting to drink the tea, but they’re surprised as B scoots behind them and pulls A to their chest, gently holding the mug for them so A doesn’t have to. After a few sips, A nods and leans back, curling back into B’s chest.
“Do you want to talk about today?” B asks.
A shakes their head and closes their eyes. Today was awful - but the ending wasn’t so bad. “S’okay now. You’ve got me.“
B smiles and pulls up the blankets over them both, arm securely holding A close to them. “You bet I do.”
Writing Prompt 003
“For the love of God, didn’t your parents teach you not to converse with a stranger?” The villain chided as they supported the hero by their waist. They sighed, having managed to intervene with the recent predicament that hero was in. Shouldn’t they know better not to deal with those thugs?
The hero clung weakly onto the villain’s coat, their fingers; thin and cold, clinging onto whatever warmth they could feel. They let out a whimper, barely audible, as the villain pulled them closer, preventing them from slipping down onto the snow.
“Seriously, do you have a dying wish,” they rambled on, trying their best to keep the hero upright. “Just what did you think you were doing? With them may I add.”
The hero remained silent, only to whisper a broken apology with much effort a minute later. The villain rolled their eyes, about to continue their nagging monologue but held their tongue realising that something didn’t feel right. A creeping uneasiness at the realisation that the hero replied with an apology instead of the snarky remarks they so often threw at the villain.
Concerned, the villain sat the hero on a bench, kneeling in front of them. Their eyes darted around, scanning for injuries. None.
Still feeling suspicious, and uncertain, they reached out, rolling up the hero’s sleeves.
Bingo. A few bruises scattered around. Bruising from various sources. But most prominent of all, bruises that came from needles; an eerie familiarity of small bruises that the villain knew too well. Their left arm instinctive tensed up but relaxed with the pressing issue. This wasn’t the right time to be remembering old wounds. With a gloved hand cupping the hero’s cheek and the other on the shoulder shaking them gently, they called out cautiously.
“Hey, [Hero]. Hey! Look at me.”
They were a mess, their forehead perspiring despite the constant chattering of teeth. Their now small, weak frame shivered in the winter breeze despite having been dressed in long, thick, woollen clothing. The hero’s eyes were dazed, their eyelids beginning to droop. Their pale lips, dry and cracked.
Sensing that the weight of the situation was way worse than expected, the villain shed their coat, draping it around the hero before carrying them bridal style. They muttered a few cusses under their breath, keeping the hero close to their chest. With a quick sprint, the villain made their way to their parked car, speeding off to their base as they consulted their faithful sidekick for medical aid.
the trolley problem but instead it’s a catboy or a werewolf
Werewolves can only be killed by silver. Let the trolley run over the werewolf, it will survive.
one must die
I eat the werewolf’s ass. This solves none of the problems but I die doing what i loved.
[tumblr]
Santa is on strike due to global warming. All presents this year will be delivered by Sasha the Christmas Tiger. Milk and cookies may not be sufficient.
“MUST BRING PRESENTS TO GOOD CHILDREN”
“Yes good”
“AND EAT THE BAD ONES”
“Wait no”
“EAT THEM”
“sasha no”
@burstofhope the Christmas tiger is watching
She is making a list
It is not easy with her paws but she is making it
shes almost here
Okay fine this is the ONE Christmas thing I will reblog before Thanksgiving BUT THAT’S IT
SASHA’S BACK ON MY DASH!
Y’all better behave, you have two months
You better watch out
You better watch out
You better watch out
You better watch out
Please make this go viral.
It is so important I don’t even care if you delete what I write here, just help it be seen.
If you don’t reblog get the fuck out of here
U.S. National Suicide Hotline: 1-800-273-8255
Live chat services are also available for anyone who doesn’t feel comfortable with making phone calls/talking on the phone.
Please reach out when you are struggling. You deserve so much more out of this life. Don’t ever forget that somebody loves you.
I don’t know what to add. Just, be safe out there. People will love you.
If you need help, talk to people. Stay strong peeps.
stay strong you guys.
“Not use collective punishment as it is not fair on the many people who did nothing and under the 1949 Geneva Conventions it is a war crime.”
Wait it’s a fucking WAR CRIME?!?! I mean that might not be 100% accurate but now I gotta know
holy crap, collective punishment is a war crime.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fourth_Geneva_Convention#Collective_punishments
and according to the exact legal phrasing-
No protected person may be punished for an offense he or she has not personally committed. Collective penalties and likewise all measures of intimidation or of terrorism are prohibited.
This technically counts, as students are civilians, and thus considered a “protected person”. So yes, collective classroom punishment breaks the fourth Geneva Convention, and she should be rewarded for standing up for human rights and doing her research.
Power-move: accuse your teacher of a war crime using knowledge they supplied you with
“you dare use my own spells against me, potter?”
I’ll find my way back to you
You can carbon date this post by its shade of blue
so much drama in a single picture
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For myself and everyone of you who happen to see this, whether it be here or there!
In case you have a bad day..i hope it puts a smile on your face 😁😋
REBLOG RARE POSITIVE GORDON