#legacy post format

[a-light-seeking-dream]

迸るしぶき by アボカド on photohito

higher res + details and legacy format repost of this from @ps1 (pls dm me)

check out the original full high res image on photohito

[a-dream-seeking-light]

grimes fanart by somnenije (@somnenije on tumblr)

...

fwiw the provenance: 

first saw this reblogged by @life-in--the--vivid-dream from @grimes-idoru

google image searched and found the artist on artstation and twitter and found more fanart by them at the latter

then found the artist’s post of this work on their tumblr and saw that @c-v-mal had reblogged it so i reblogged it from them to my alt @mugattuhasgotchu

ocd me is keeping this blog as free of neue post format posts for as long as i can hold out so here it is reposted as legacy post format

[a-dream-seeking-light]

Please do not get rid of the legacy editor until the new editor has been ironed out to be as bug free as possible AND when it delivers a UX that is comparable to the legacy editor. Near as I can tell the new editor is still yet far from there.

As for NPF. I get that you wanted to simplify things down from 7 types, but making all posts 1 type that is treated as text by all things ain’t it. Doing so undercuts the value of the media content that is so essential to the users of the site.

So here’s a compromise suggestion. Instead of smooshing all post into a base text type, could it not have been enough to simplify down to two types: a) text-based type and b) media-based type? This way you have a streamlined content system that leaves media unadulterated while still allowing for versatility and future-proofing for new post types AND it preserves the media content for even better backwards compatibility, especially for older themes. I’d prefer a bug where videos show up as photos than one where they show up as text.

Right now the workarounds I’m seeing to make themes compatible with both legacy and npf is a mess because all posts are being treated as the same type with makeshift solutions to try to suss out the OP’s intended “primary” post type. One buggy example was (is?) npf posts showing up as video because like 5 blocks down a text post a video block was included.

So because text and media I feel are inherently different categories, this is how I’d break them down:

text/non-media types: text, quote, chat, link, poll, contact, coding snippet, dna sequence, menu, recipe, survey, form, screenplay, 3d printable object, asks, etc.

media types: photo (incl. anim gif), photoset (incl. anim gifset), video, audio, rendered 3d object / vr object, video game / interactive environment, live feed, embedded external versions of video and audio and game, rendered smells and tastes and haptic feedback / vr spaces, ai avatars, tele-limb controls, zoom meetings, dreams, memories, etc.

you can still have mixed block types but with this you would have a choice of whether you want a post to have text primacy or media primacy.

Unfortunately I’m probably just screaming into the wind here. When none of the user feedback is heeded and npf goes forward as is, when the legacy post editor finally dies this blog will become a wraith account, a ghost of tumblr’s past, trawling through old archives to find lost gems, but unable to partake in the land of the living.

I’ve had this inevitability in mind for a long time now, even starting an equivalent npf blog @pszombie a while back anticipating this happening.

I sometimes tag stuff as ephemeral, but I guess that’s pretty redundant since in the end that applies to everything.

Hello, Tumblr. 

If you joined us before November 2022 and predominantly post on web, you will be familiar with the two post editors—the legacy editor and the “new” web editor (formerly known as the “Beta editor”).

Beginning May 15, we’ll gradually be working to remove the legacy editor as an option for creating new posts. New posts created on web will be created in the new web editor. We hope to complete this change by July 15. 

This change only affects accounts created before November 2022. Newer accounts already default to the new web editor.

This will not affect posting on the apps because we switched to this new editor on the apps about four years ago. If you use the apps, you’ve been using the new editor all this time!

This will not affect what you can include in a post, only how you get there: You can still include all the different types of media in a post, only now, you’ll do that via the new web editor’s content blocks instead of selecting a post type from the post type bar at the top of your dash. So, if you’re halfway through a text post, and you decide that what this post really needs is your pet reptile, then click on the little red image icon in the post editor, select an image, and voilà. Lizard boy steals our hearts.

If you still prefer to post on web using the legacy editor, please keep reading because the rest of this post is for you.

How can you prepare for this change?

Once we have completed this update, you won’t be able to create posts using the legacy editor. You will be able to edit posts made using the legacy editor, at least for now. 

Start using the new web editor ahead of the switch. This will help you help us troubleshoot any issues you might encounter. It’ll also mean you’ll already know the ropes before the switch is final. 

Talk to us. Send us feedback. Especially if you’re switching from legacy to the new web editor. We want to hear about your experience: Are there any specific workflows or features in legacy that you want to see in the new editor?      

If you use a theme, make sure to check whether it supports posts made using the new web editor, and update it if that’s not the case. 

For those of you trimming reblogs: @rpschtuff has created an incredibly detailed master post that gets into the nitty gritty of that practice in the new web editor.

XKitters: XKit Rewritten was explicitly designed with the new web experience in mind. This means that you will need to use XKit Rewritten when creating posts in the new web editor.

That’s all for now. Remember, you can always get in touch with us. If it’s regarding the new web editor, then Support is the place for you. If it’s about something else, @wip is your guy.

[nxntendhoe]

Ski Slopes w/ the Hurley Sisters 🏔️⛷️🏂

Jared's sisters, Jemma (20) and Jessica (31), invited the couple to hit the slopes with them to get to know her better.

[jungkkyuk]

SEVEN Recording Film

↳ JUNGKOOK

+ bonus koochella 🥰

[matchalovertrait]

After about 10 months of dating, Dulce decided it was time for her family to meet Caruso, and well... let's just say that things could've gone better.... Will this shake things up in the Alegría household?

Note: For those who don't know, the "discovery" of "spa water" was a very real thing 💀 That sounds so unappetizing. Insulting in many ways lol.

Start from the beginning (Gen 2)

Previous | Next

Transcript

Erick: Nice to meet you, Caruso!

Noemí: What a pleasure to finally meet you.

Caruso: Thank you. I see where your daughter got her good looks from.

Noemí: Oh my! How flattering.

Ángel: Um... is he really using his phone at the dinner table?

Noemí: It's so nice to have every seat filled up at the table! Now we wait for the grandchildren to come.

Erick: [Whispers] Are you seeing what I'm seeing...

Pavan is completely oblivious, too in love with Ángel to notice anything.

Ángel: [Whispers] Yeah...

Erick: I'll give him another chance... Nice shirt, what's your favorite album of theirs?

Caruso: Oh, I don't listen to this band. Their music is boring. I thought the design on the shirt looked rad as hell.

Erick: I see.... please excuse me.

Noemí: Your agua fresca is amazing! It's agua de pepino, right?

Caruso: ...Agua... fresca? No, no. This is my creation! I call it "spa water."

Noemí: Oh... clever.

Ángel: I'm not sure if my drawing is conveying the message y'know?

Pavan: Looks great to me. The colors play into the theme of not escaping one's past.

Ángel: Ah perfect. I was going to sign myself up for Color Theory 101 again.

Caruso: Color theory? What's there to theorize? Colors exist, obviously. Just look everywhere, haha. Am I right or am I right?

Ángel: Is this a joke?

Noemí: Ahem... Mija, can you come help sing a lullaby to the fish? They won't sleep.

Dulce: Oh we have pet fish now? Since when do fish need music to sleep anyway? [Says quietly] Also, I sing well?

Caruso: Yeah you sing beautifully.

Noemí: Um... It's a new kind of science. Let's go, just the two of us.

[rheya28]

My Love Selena - Chapter Four, pt 1

Selena " What should we cook for dinner?" Richard (smirks) " I know what I want for dinner" Richard leaned forward teasingly Selena (giggles as she pushes him slightly) "I'm serious, ma and pa are coming over. I want to make them something delicious" Richard listed some dinner options and offered that he'll grill some meat as well. Selena nods in approval. Richard " Can I tell you something?" Selena looked at him Richard " You look beautiful with your hair up" Richard kissed Selena's lips and smiled.

[Prev ♡ Next ]

[myokk]

remembering the snow

pairing: Imelda Reyes x Poppy Sweeting

word count: 3,2k

summary:

Imelda remembers the first time she saw snow.

Her parents always started the story telling her that she cried and cried and cried.

***

Or: a character study on Imelda and how she grew up because I love her & she doesn't get enough appreciation :)

cw: none, this is just a love letter to Imelda

a/n: or: this was the first oneshot I ever wrote, and it holds such a special place in my heart. I think it might be my favorite 🥹🫶

Imelda Reyes has never been one to do things by halves.

Her mother always talked about the circumstances of her birth with pride: Imelda came quickly as if she were eager to get out and see the world already, screaming even before she had fully left her mother's womb, determined to leave an indelible mark on the world.

The women in their village who had assisted the birth crossed themselves, chattering to each other in quick, soft, beautiful Spanish staccato about the baby who was already unlike any they had ever seen before. Strong and healthy and beautiful, her deep brown eyes already taking in her surroundings and watching them solemnly moments after her arrival.

Her father always talked about the circumstances of her childhood: running wild and free, flying before she could walk (a source of great pride), his little shadow who peppered him with endless questions about the world. He always brought her along to his work meetings much to everyone's delight; she was with him when he was offered the enviable position of Spanish Diplomat to the British Ministry of Magic.

At the age of five, they left the beautiful sleepy village where time hadn't seemed to exist. Imelda still dreams of long, hot, dusty days playing under the shade of orange trees, going to the market every two days with her mother draped in their finest silks, sleeping and lying around during the hottest part of the day, only leaving their house once the sun left its highest point and was about to disappear behind the mountains.

The older women in the village doted on her. If she thinks hard, she can recall their beautiful, wavering voices calling out to her as she raced past them: 'ten cuidado, cariño, te vas a mancar', 'ven aquí, cielo, te quiero ver la cara tan bonita', 'mira cómo se está creciendo, se nota que va a ser una belleza de mayor'...voices filled with comfort and love. She never knew anything different then.

She's their only child. Her mother was always brushing her hair and humming, trying to get her to sit still and listen to her endless fairy tales as the sun bore down on them; her father, treating Imelda like the son he had always wished for but accepting and loving her all the same. Sometimes, her mother would let her out of the house before the sun became too strong and they would fly around the mountains and be free free free.

Arriving to Edinburgh at the age of five, Imelda hadn't even realized she didn't speak the same language as the other children around her. As with everything else, she jumped in headfirst. Her mother always jokes that she became fluent in English the second she stepped foot on Scottish soil. To Imelda, it does seem that way. She can't ever remember not speaking in the soft Scottish burr, reminiscent of the soft Spanish she had left behind and still spoke at home.

As a child, she never had problems forging relationships with whoever was around her. She was brash and inquisitive and irresistible, taking charge wherever she went. The other children flocked around her, hanging on to her every word.

It changed, though, when her mother got her cough. It started out harmless enough, a slight cough and headache before bed each night. When her mother woke up every morning, she would be fine. But going to bed early changed to going to bed even earlier and earlier until it was time to accept what the three of them were steadfastly ignoring: she was getting worse.

Imelda was nine. She remembers her mother drying her tears with gentle, soft hands, caressing her cheeks and whispering to her that it would be fine. That she wasn't gone yet: they still had time.

'No pasa nada, mi amor. Siempre estaré contigo.'

At Hogwarts, things changed even more. She was a Slytherin and proud of it, but she never quite fit in with her classmates. She wasn't one of them, hadn't grown up with them, and they made sure she knew it. Gone were the days of running wild: she turned her single-minded determination to her studies and quidditch and found herself excelling at everything she put her mind to. It all came easily to her and she had no time for anyone who could distract her.

She wasn't a complete loner. She had her quidditch teammates, her partners in various classes, but nobody she hung out with outside of classes. She always studied alone, learned alone, trained alone.

(Of course, the picture she paints to her father in owls home is much different. He has enough on his mind - a daughter struggling to make friends is a non-issue as far as Imelda is concerned. And besides: she's fine.)

Imelda was quite content with the way things were working out for her. She would never admit if she was lonely or not, and enjoyed every part of her life. Until her fifth year, when everything began to change. Gone were her rigid schedules and studying alone and discipline. A new girl was sorted into Slytherin and Imelda found she didn't hate the girl's company. The two of them laugh together at night while they braid each others' hair, Imelda teaches her Spanish, and they have started to study together.

The new student drags her around Hogwarts and Imelda finds herself actually enjoying herself and enjoying spending time with the classmates she’s spent so many years ignoring.

This is when she meets Poppy Sweeting.

Well...Poppy swears that they met ages ago, during their first year when they were partnered together in Potions. Imelda has no recollection - that whole year was a blur - it was the year her mother succumbed to her illness - so she has to take Poppy's word for it.

She finds herself with friends for the first time in a long time. But, when the new student is running off with Sebastian doing Merlin-knows-what, things that Imelda definitely does not want to be a part of, she still finds herself seeking Poppy's company.

Poppy is sweet and fun and introverted in a way that Imelda finds familiar and comfortable: whereas Imelda turns to her studies and quidditch, Poppy often opts to spend time more time with beasts than humans. But there's something endearing about her earnestness and Imelda starts to find herself craving Poppy's calm company.

She always knows what to say when Imelda finds herself getting worked up over nothing.

On the train home for the winter holidays, as Imelda is striding down the long corridor in search of an empty cabin where she can read and concoct fail-proof quidditch tactics, Poppy calls her over to her carriage and asks Imelda to keep her company. She only needs to ask once. There's an unfamiliar fluttering in Imelda's stomach as she sits across from Poppy and the other girl beams at her but it's...well. It's not altogether unpleasant. They play exploding snap and exchange book recommendations and laugh together and...well, if Imelda's knee brushes against Poppy's occasionally or their fingers linger as they exchange essays to look over...

She can't be blamed, can she?

A letter from Poppy arrives over the break. At the sight of Poppy's small brown owl tapping the window with the letter in its beak, Imelda's heart starts racing and she runs over to the bird, grinning like a fool, but she pauses before opening it. Her fingers tremble as they hover over the wax seal.

Imelda's father is largely absent these days, a shadow of the man she had grown up with. She's noticed the difference over the summer too, of course, but the winter always feels different. More desolate; more harsh. They're nearing the four-year anniversary of her mother's death. It's impossible to ignore the fact that losing his wife has damaged his soul irreparably, and Imelda's seeing first-hand what being deeply in love can do to a person.

Maybe she'll put the letter aside and read it tomorrow.

Tomorrow bleeds into the next day turns into one week and before she can blink the bleak winter vacation with her father has ended and she's heading back to Hogwarts.

On the train, she walks past Poppy: the two of them make eye contact but Poppy flushes and looks out the window, tucking her honey-colored hair behind her ear and Imelda moves on to the next empty carriage. She pulls out some parchment and works on revising her Charms essay. It's for the best, anyway, she tells herself. For the best that she doesn't have any distractions. Their O.W.L.s are coming up and she's determined to get an O in every subject.

The month of January goes by in a flash. Between the insane quidditch schedule she's concocted for her team and the study sessions in the library, she keeps herself busy. The new fifth-year, her first real friend, starts to show concern for Imelda, gently trying to ask her what's going on as they braid each others' hair before bed.

Imelda doesn't want to bother her, though.

(She doesn't truly know what's the matter, anyways.)

She resolves to do a better job with keeping her emotions in check - her friend has enough on her plate, and Imelda doesn't want her to have to worry over something that's not even a problem in the first place.

She's fine.

Out of the corner of her eye in the classes she shares with Poppy, Imelda notices that she doesn't look as happy as she normally does. Her face is more pale and withdrawn; whenever Imelda's eyes flicker to her, her own gaze darts away.

With the beginning of February come a lot of blizzards, and they make Imelda remember the first time she saw snow.

Her parents always started the story telling her that she cried and cried and cried.

They had both run over to her, covering her with warm hugs and kisses, the tiny family huddled together in this foreign place where the people looked and spoke differently, where nothing was the same and she missed the old women who would give her mazapanes whenever she ran by, missed the tiny clouds of dust that would puff up as she ran and the hazy mountains in the distance and the hot, hot sun beating down while she played in the shade of the orange trees while her mother slept away the heat. Pulling her mittened hands off of her tear-stained face and telling her 'mira cariño, mira qué bonita es la nieve. Tócala, ya verás que no pasa nada...estamos aquí contigo...'

Her tears had soon dried and she was laughing and playing in the snow and she couldn't even remember what had made her so sad in the first place.

Imelda's sad now as she stares out the window.

Her mother isn't there anymore. She has no one to turn to in this self-imposed exile.

Four years ago today.

She's hidden herself away in an alcove, curled up, arms wrapped around her knees watching the snow swirling out the window. She canceled quidditch practice today due to the storm, much to everyone's surprise. Just last week, she had forced them to train in the freezing rain and today's snowfall is mild in comparison. But...today she doesn't have the energy. She's spent so much effort pretending that everything's fine when it's not and now she's sad and alone and confused.

She doesn't hear Poppy when she comes near.

The other girl crowds into Imelda's space, pressing against her in the alcove. The two face each other, and Poppy brings a gentle hand up to Imelda's face to brush away tears she hadn't even realized were falling.

"What -" Imelda starts saying, but a fresh sob chokes her and she can't. Poppy leans forward and wraps her arms around Imelda, pulling her into a close embrace. Imelda feels everything crumbling around her and she sobs into Poppy's shoulder - Poppy whispering reassurances and smoothing her hair, cradling Imelda as she cries and cries and cries.

They don't leave the alcove for another hour, almost staying out after curfew.

Imelda is subdued the next few days. The snow continues to fall until the whole castle looks like it's straight from one of the fairy tales her mother used to tell her as she brushed her hair. Imelda shows up for meals, shows up for classes, shows up in the study group, but she feels like she's just going through the motions.

She can tell her friend is getting worried, but Imelda can't confide in her. Her friend does small gestures anyways because she understands: saving Imelda a seat in class, asking her about quidditch, saving her favorite muffins for her at breakfast.

Maybe she talked to Sebastian about her worry because even he is being nicer than normal to Imelda, asking her if she wants to play wizarding chess with the two of them. Imelda doesn't really understand how or why they like playing the game so much - her friend is awful at it and Sebastian seems to enjoy the destruction and chaos more than actually strategizing. Even though Imelda hates the game - every move is painfully obvious and she can't understand how nobody else sees it like she does - maybe it would be nice to do something different.

Imelda freezes when they enter the Astronomy Tower to play: Poppy is there, waiting. For her. They haven't seen each other since she broke down humiliated and sobbing and she doesn't know what to do.

Sebastian looks between the two of them, brows furrowed, then leans down to their friend and whispers something in her ear. She nods and the two of them disappear, leaving Imelda and Poppy alone.

Poppy stands and Imelda can feel her heart start to hammer against her throat. Poppy walks forward slowly, only stopping when she's right in front of Imelda. When she speaks, her voice is high and sweet and Imelda realizes how much she missed her. "I-I'm sorry, I just didn't know how else I could talk to you. Will you come with me? I have something to show you."

Imelda nods mutely and Poppy takes her hand. They lace their fingers together and it's the first time - apart from a few days ago - that they have voluntarily touched each other. She feels Poppy's fingers tighten around hers and Imelda focuses on the feeling of soft knuckles under her thumb, but now...she's self-conscious for the first time about her quidditch-rough hands and maybe she should have listened to her friend when she tried to encourage Imelda to use some hand lotion.

Maybe Poppy will let go of her hand and leave in disgust.

But...Poppy doesn't do any of that. Every so often, she looks up at Imelda, smiling slightly. When they reach the Entrance Hall, she lets go of Imelda's hand and Imelda feels its loss with a pang.

Poppy opens the bag at her side and pulls out two huge yellow and black Hufflepuff scarves. As she's reaching up to wrap one around Imelda, she whispers: "sorry, I only have these. But yellow looks good on you."

Both of them flush and smile at each other and Imelda doesn't know how long they stand before Poppy grabs her hand again, making sure their fingers are laced, and then they are heading out.

Poppy looks more and more excited the closer they get to the Forbidden Forest, but Imelda's never set foot even remotely close to the forest, and she feels quite apprehensive at first. But, Poppy's excitement is exhilarating - Imelda can feel it rolling off of her in waves and despite herself, she begins to feel excited too. They still haven't spoken since leaving Hogwarts, but it's a comfortable silence. Imelda's glad for the scarf - their breath is puffing out in soft clouds as they breathe and it's quite cold - the freezing temperatures in Scottish winters are still something she's never quite gotten used to.

Their boots crunch through the snow-filled landscape - it's nearing dusk and the sky is turning a brilliant shade of orange and pink, but it gets obscured by the tree branches the further into the Forbidden Forest they venture, the golden light only showing in bursts now.

"Almost there," Poppy says breathlessly. She beams up at Imelda, whose breath catches at the sight, before turning back and pulling her faster and faster until they stop in a clearing. They've stopped in the middle, and Imelda looks around.

Here, they can actually see the sky and it is breathtaking in its beauty - the gnarled, naked trees around them twisting and reaching up as if they could try and grasp some of the beauty for themselves. The snow is perfectly smooth and untouched except for the footprints that the two of them have just left. Apart from that, the clearing is nondescript.

This is what Poppy had been so excited to show her?

Poppy gives no explanation for why she brought Imelda to the Forbidden Forest, but she's almost quivering in excitement - Imelda can feel the tension in the hand that's clutching hers tightly. The sun sets lower and lower, the two of them watching it as the colors around them start to fade and mute and then -

Poppy gasps in delight.

There -

A small, dancing, brilliant white light sparks to their left and disappears just as quickly.

"Look," Poppy whispers. Imelda glances over to her - she can barely make out her face in the dimming light, but Poppy seems to be glowing with happiness.

There - again -

More and more of the brilliant white lights appear, glowing and flickering on and off, and moving in almost a pattern, dancing around their heads. Imelda laughs as she watches the tiny creatures fly around them. It's magical and beautiful and -

"I found the snow sprite nest a few weeks ago, when the blizzards started, and I've been observing them since then. I...I wanted to show you and tell you about them the second I found out because I haven't stopped thinking about you but after...well, you know...I just wanted to cheer you up..."

Poppy trails off, looking uncertain when Imelda doesn't say anything in response.

She can't, even though she desperately wants to. Her mouth goes dry as she looks to the girl at her side, who has done all of this, for her.

Poppy looks impossibly lovely in the glow of the snow sprites, as they dance and spark around their heads in a beautiful waving pattern and Imelda doesn't even think as her hand goes to Poppy's cheek. Poppy stops rambling as she looks up into Imelda's eyes.

Then, before she can lose her nerve, Imelda leans forward and presses her lips to Poppy's. It's only the lightest of touches, but her heart is beating so quickly and Merlin, she can't believe she just did that. She quickly retreats, face flaming, but before she can get away Poppy reaches up to cup Imelda's cheeks with both hands and she pulls her forward, her mouth greedy, desperate, as they finally kiss.

When they finally pull away, breathing heavily as their foreheads rest against each other, Imelda can't help the huge smile that's threatening to split her face open. It mirrors the expression she sees on Poppy, her eyes bright and cheeks flushed and she is just so lovely that Imelda can't help but lean forward and capture her mouth again. Their lips mold to each other and it's the culmination of all of their stolen glances, touches, secret wishes.

Imelda Reyes has never been one to do things by halves, after all .

A HUGE thank you to @dom1re and @thingsmaygetalittlecrazy for reading this oneshot recently and leaving me such amazing comments on ao3😭♥️♥️♥️ they made me reread this oneshot & I remembered how much I love it🫶

[simvanie]

7 Sins Legacy - generation 4 (pride)

Alban: I'm sorry dude, I really thought she was interested in you. Gulshan: I'ts fine... I wouldn't pick me over him either.

Alban: Hey, you're great. Halle just kept stringing you along for far too long. She's kind of a messy type. He is as well-

-It's just stupid of him that he goes after the girl you like. Gulshan: I... never really made it clear that I like her in that way.

Alban: Right, he probably doesn't even realize. Gulshan: We've all been part of the same friend group since we started high school. He had as good a chance as I did... If not a better one.

Alban: So you're okay with it? Gulshan: I don't want to make things complicated. It's probably for the better.

Alban: Want a smoke? It always helps when I'm feeling a bit down. Gulshan: Oh, I-

Alban: You have a light? Gulshan: No? ...Actually I do, there's one right here.

Gulshan picked up the lighter that someone had left on the table in front of him and lit the cigarette while trying to inhale the smoke-

-which caused him to have a coughing fit. Alban: Hehe- always happens. Don't worry, you'll get used to it.

[boomcrunch]

arrested for gay crimes

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

"Honorary Water Tribe member"

Kuruk: I think we should claim Kyoshi as an "Honorary Water Tribe" member. Kyoshi: What the fuck are you talking about? Korra: Yeah Kuruk, I don't really get it. Aang: Yeah if anyone is going to be one, it should be me! I'm at least married to someone from the Water Tribe! Heck, even Yangchen counts. Yangchen: You all keep my private life out of this! Kyoshi: Yangchen, quick, what do we do when we're hit with allegations?! Yangchen: Deny, deny, deny. Blame it on spirits! Kyoshi: No! We take accountability! Yangchen: You stay in your lane, I'll stay in mine. Kuruk, please elaborate. Kuruk: Thank you, Yangchen. As I was saying. I think Kyoshi should be labeled as a member of the tribe! Roku: I mean, as Avatar's we technically belong to all the nations- Kuruk: That's not what I mean! Kyoshi: Then what the hell do you mean????? Kuruk: What I mean is, Kyoshi you've inherited some key features from me, my wife, and Kavik. Kyoshi:............................. Yangchen:.............................. Korra, Aang, Roku: ???????? Kyoshi: Hey Yangchen..... Yangchen: ...... Kyoshi: He's talking about your boy, you want to stop him? Yangchen: My boy? I don't have a boy. Kavick? Who's he? I'm leaving. Leave me out of this. Kyoshi: Damn, denying that poor boy of an existence, the hell do I have in common with him? Kuruk: You're both the subbiest bottoms I've ever met. Kyoshi: ......................................... Kyoshi: Kuruk, what do you want to say to your wife? Kuruk: What- Kyoshi: Kuruk, tell me what you want to tell your wife. Because I will find Koh and relay the message, after I FUCKING RIP YOUR SPINE OUT THROUGH YOUR THROAT- Kuruk, pulls Kyoshi into a one arm bear hug: THAT'S MY GIRL! Look at that bloodlust! You got that from me! Kyoshi: ?????! Kuruk: You also got my amazing game too! Dripping with rizz and you don't even try! Like c'mon! Nyahitha even says we're basically twins! Kyoshi: Kuruk shut- Kuruk: And same taste in the ladies~! uwu Kyoshi: ........................................................ Korra: She's going to kill him. Kyoshi: I'm going to kill him. Kuruk: You also have my wife's face, so I think that qualifies too! Kyoshi: Get off of me. Kuruk: Korra, you also inherited Rangi's wishes for Kyoshi! A castle, guards, people love you! Korra: Heh, so that means they're my great-grandmas? Kuruk: Exactly! Korra: You know what? I kinda feel a kinship with her, esp with Kuvira and Chin. Damn, I didn't realize Kyoshi had so much in common with us. Kuruk: I know! From our looks, to our personality, or our vibe. She deserves to be part of our Tribe! Kyoshi: None of you are making any sense. Let go of me and go do whatever you want. I'm leaving! Yangchen! Wait up!

[a-dream-seeking-light]

gretha cavazzoni featured in les scintillements du mat, december 1989 by sante d’orazio for vogue france

[incorrect-hs-quotes]

Gamzee promotes Faygo

GAMZEE: OkAy BuDdY! WhAt Do YoU tHiNk Of FaYgO?

KARKAT: NEVER TASTED IT.

KARKAT: [GETS SHOT BY CANNON]

GAMZEE: [PoInTs SaId CaNnOn ToWaRd ThE oThEr TrOlLs]

GAMZEE: NoW. WhAt Do YoU tHiNk Of FaYgO? 

GAMZEE: ThIs MaChInE wIlL mAkE yOu WaNt FaYgO. :o)

TEREZI: NOT M3! 1LL-

TEREZI: [H34RS GU1LLOT1N3 DROP]

TEREZI: -...H4V3 4 GL4SS R1GHT NOW.........

VRISKA: I’ve got four aces! Can you 8eat that?

GAMZEE: I’vE gOt A bOtTlE oF fAyGo!

VRISKA: [Gets shot]

GAMZEE: NoThInG bEaTs FaYgO! :o) 

[burningblake]

whoah whoah ok, I just fixed my blog theme to properly show both new editor, old editor, reblogged and original photoset posts properly. I used the fix by @glenthemes but unfortunately that only fixed reblogged posts for me. To fix original posts, I tried a very unorthodox trick, but it works so, here:

Search for {block:Text} in your theme.

Within {block:Text} and under {block:NotReblog}, add source-head class to the wrapper, just like in the case of reblogged posts. I know, "but there's no source in original posts", you'll say, except we won't put a source, simply trick the code to think that there is one, and then instead of adding a source icon and url, we'll—

Add an img-src of a thin transparent line before the caption body, that is between the > sign and {Body}. I uploaded one here if you wanna use mine, but you can always simply upload your own on an image hosting site (I used imgbb): https://i.ibb.co/Ry1HdN2/transparentline.png

Example code:

edit: I realized that not everyone might understand what I'm going on about here since all themes are different, but essentially what this fixes is the photoset margins. Basically, if your theme has a special layout for photosets, new-editor photosets will mold into that layout, instead of appearing as they would in text posts, hope that helps

[stinkrascal]

i'm only all i see, sometimes

previous | next | beginning

TRANSCRIPT

picture one vaughn: now it's day, i've been trying to get that taste off my tongue

picture two vaughn: i was dreaming of just you, now our cereal, it is warm

picture three vaughn: attractive day in the rubble from the night from before vaughn: c'mon, sing already!

picture four klaus: ...now i can't walk in a vacuum, i feel ugly, i feel my pores vaughn: hey, not bad!

picture five vaughn, klaus: it's the trees of this day that i do battle with for the night

picture six vaughn, klaus: and then i start to feel tragic, people greet me, i'm polite

picture seven klaus: what's the day? what you doing? vaughn: how's your mood? how's that song?

picture eight vaughn: man, it passes right by me, it's behind me, now it's gone

picture nine klaus: and i can't lift you up, my mind is tired, oh, it's family beaches i desire

picture ten vaughn, klaus: a sacred night, we'll watch the fireworks that frighten the babies

picture eleven vaughn, klaus: and you know they've got two flashing eyes

picture twelve vaughn, klaus: they're colorblind

picture thirteen vaughn, klaus: they make me feel

picture fourteen vaughn, klaus: that i'm only

picture fifteen vaughn, klaus: all i see, sometimes—

picture sixteen [ caspian stands abruptly. all eyes are on him. ]

picture seventeen vladislaus: ...did you need something? caspian: [ startled ] what? vladislaus: did you need anything?

picture eighteen caspian: oh. um. [ quietly ] bathroom. vladislaus: it's in the master bedroom, the door to the left.

picture nineteen vaughn: you're pretty good! klaus: ...hmm. vaughn: aww, c'mon, there ain't no reason being shy, you got some pipes!

picture twenty breanna: it was so good!! encore!! encore!! karmen: yeah, i never knew you could sing like that! vaughn: yeah, you got nothing to be shy over. you're good! klaus: *has become nonverbal*

picture twenty-one vaughn: hey, you good? oh, i get it, a man of few words, huh? yeah, me too, i can respect it...

[sensitive-trait]

⭐️Part 1/2 - Link to Part 2

When dinner ended the girls had asked their parents for a sleepover. Citing the fact that they rarely had time together. “Family is so important, isn't it?” Heather had said, and the adults all caved. So while their parents headed home to tend to their menagerie of animals, they were allowed to stay through the weekend. 

They stayed up late gossiping and talking about their crushes. Charlotte watched her sister and each of her cousins describe their perfect men as lanky, bespectacled teenagers and had never felt more out of place. But she reminded herself to be more humanlike and tried to brush it aside as they finally tucked in for bed. 

The next morning, they headed to the pier in Copperdale. Arriving just as the park opened, they had the whole place to themselves.

The girls marched confidently into the haunted house. Angelica the oldest, assured them it would be childish, so the others tried to be brave, following her lead.

But when the lights went out her younger sister Ophelia screamed and grabbed her arm. They all got spooked, shrieking like banshees. They left ride laughing and teasing one another for their reactions. 

They arrived at the Ferris wheel and Alice noticed their uneven numbers and politely stepped aside. “It’s okay, I’ll sit this one out. You guys go have fun.” She insisted.

Just as she finished her sentence, she noticed a familiar face to her right. She turned to run over to him but was stopped dead in her tracks. “Oh.”