do u understand

“that’s just some dude” well i fuck with dudes. What do you want me to say

if you don’t understand the beauty of a guy just being some dude, well. i can’t help you

i think men who eat pussy like it’s their last meal deserve a star sticker every time they do it

Okay, but imagine this as a fanfic. Like your lover (whoever you like, idk) is ravenous. They have your legs over their shoulders, hand squeezing tightly on your thighs or, better yet, your love handles.

Their tongue is lapping up any slick you have, swallowing like it was nector gifted from the gods. Your moans and groans would be the fuel for them to keep going. Your hands tangled in their hair, tugging harshly, but oh, do not worry, they live for that slight bit of pain on their head.

They hadn't even come up for a breath yet, nose digging right where you want them. Putting pressure on your cilt while their tongue to fucking your tight hole along with two or three fingers. You'd be so close to yet another orgasm —having already experienced two prior from their pure devotion of making you come undone—.

And when you finally tip over the edge, squeezing your thighs tightly against their head, they would think this was the perfect way to die if it came down to it. Death by suffocation from your gorgeous thighs. They would finally come up to look at you fully, gazing at their finished work as if you were a fucking art piece.

"You did so well." "My good girl." "My favourite meal."

They wouldn't stop the praises, but as your brain unfogs from the intense climax, you remembered your little surprise to gift them for all their hard work. Sitting up slightly, they'd watching you lean over to your side table, pulling out a couple sheets of gold star stickers. They'd be confused, but as soon as you took one and stuck it to their chest, saying 'gold sticker for a great performance'.

They would laugh.

A whole hearted laugh with a bright smile. Now, a new mission would arise where they would do everything in their power to get another sticker, then another, and another. Until they were completely covered in gold and the sticker sheets were empty.

-

[I might have gone a little overboard ahah]

Another idea: Communities on Tumblr

For a while now folks have asked us for better ways to connect with other people who share similar interests. We’re listening, and at Labs we’ve been looking into fulfilling that need, Tumblr style.

Introducing Communities, a new place to connect with others on Tumblr:

Here in Labs, we’re working on big ideas that could transform how Tumblr is used, while keeping that Tumblr vibe alive. You can see one of those ideas above. We’re calling it “Communities”, a new dedicated space on Tumblr for people to share and discuss all the content they love. Communities can cover topics like your favorite show, artist, movie, video game, your school, your board game group, friend group, big or small, whatever you want.

Each Community has their own semi-private safer space away from the regular dashboard where you can interact with other Tumblr users who share the same interests and passions as you. There are moderators and members (you!), rules, and privacy settings. Each community has its own feed of posts from members, separate from your Following and For You feeds. Interactions within community spaces stay there and replies will work more like a traditional comment section. Folks will be able to reblog posts into a community, but not out — at least not yet.

We’re very excited for you to try it, and help define the best path forward. What we have is a prototype to help us validate the idea, but there’s still plenty of questions that need answering. Over the next couple of weeks, we’ll be reaching out to people across Tumblr, and the internet at large, to try our prototype. Based on the feedback we get, we’ll iterate on the idea to see what resonates best with all of you on Tumblr.

If this sounds interesting, please like, reblog, or reply to this post, and we’ll invite you to beta test this feature when we roll it out to a wider Tumblr audience, as a little perk for following the Labs blog.

Stay tuned for more!

so so so excited for this, finally able to talk about it more publicly

Holy shit! Yes!! I've been hoping for something like this for a while!!

what I want to do to mens' bodies is between me and God and everyone on the internet and no one else

dearest followers i regret to inform you that thinking with my cunt has once again led me perilously and irretrievably deep into a vast system of underground tunnels

no casual dating please i want to drink your soul and you to drink mine or i don't want anything at all

fanwars r so embarrassing to me like haven't u got things to do??? ur time on earth is so short .. spending it on twt arguing when the faves in question r most likely friends is just pure embarrassment omg

“you should be at the club” Brother I should literally be sent to the seaside for my health

A tiny Dwaekki in a tiny vest with a tiny suitcase who is ready to go do business stuff (in tiny)

After the hospital bombing, I finally heard back from my grandmother and confirmed that several of my relatives were murdered by Israeli bombing. Seven of them, to be precise. Three are still going, including her. We've been talking constantly ever since.

Asked if it was possible to head south, and was told they did but were also bombed there. So they decided to go back home, in Zeitoun. Their home was bombed and they were pulled out of the rumble, then driven by ambulances to the al-Ahli Arab Hospital. There were people in every corner. Gazans sheltering, sleeping on the floor. Gazans dying on the floor, waiting for beds.

Four were declared dead on arrival, three were in need of surgery and other three were just bandaged. Then, a bomb was dropped in the parking lot that made parts of the ceiling collapse, like Dr. Ghassan Abu Sittah reported in that horrific conference/interview. Those in need of surgery died.

By the way, just in case you didn't know: the Church of Saint Porphyrius, the third oldest in history, bombed by Israel a few days back, was located near the hospital.

When looking for new shelter, they saw schools with signs hanging outside, "We can't take any more families." They met families, sympathetic but already sheltering too many people. They're now staying in an apartment building they found empty. Sleeping in the corner of the living room. If the family comes back, they'll apologize and leave.

Told me she was saving her phone battery for when the bombing stopped, and she had to ask for help to rebuilt the neighborhood. But she doesn't think it's gonna stop anymore. The ones still with her are mute most of the time, like they're saving energy, but she feels lonely and wanted to talk. There's no internet and to connect to WhatsApp, people are buying "a card from the supermarket, there's a password and username." Not sure what she meant. Still, the internet is inconsistent and won't load neither videos or images nor pages, so she doesn't know what's happening on the outside world.

Told her there were a lot of people protesting to stop the genocide, she replied, "The bombings are getting worse by the day." The bombing yesterday was the worst she ever witnessed. The entire neighborhood is infested with the smell of death, of decomposing bodies. Bodies are piling up in the streets and she's not sure if it's because they ran out of places to store them, but most of them are in bags. The smoke of the bombings hide the blue sky—she hasn't seen the clouds for a while.

Asked if I could share their pictures, names and dreams with people and was told, of which I partly agree, "they're not entertainment." If anyone genuinely cared, they would be alive—I'd argue there are people who do care, but I'm not gonna lecture her pain. And they don't deserve to be used to fulfill someone's sick fantasy. Told me to remember what some Israelis do with pictures of dead Palestinians. And I do.

For those of you who are not familiar, many times before settlers got together to celebrate the murder of Palestinians. For one, in 2015, Israeli settlers set a house in Duma, West Bank on fire. An 18-month old baby, Ali Dawbsheh, was burnt alive. Both parents later died of wounds and only a 5-year-old, Ahmad, survived, although severely injured.

Two celebrations of their murder are widely known, one at a wedding and others outside the court in which two were indicted for the terrorist attack. In the wedding, guests stabbed a photo of the toddler, Ali, while others waved guns, knives and Molotov cocktails. Israel's Minister of National Security, Itamar Ben-Gvir, was present.

That's what happens in an apartheid. Palestinians are so abused by authorities that their "innocent civilians" come to accept the brutality as necessary or are desensitized by our suffering. After all, it's been 75 years—get used to it!

So I won't risk the image of my loved ones, in fear they are used in these kinds of depravity. I will say, though, the world lost a young footballer. Lost a female writer and an aspiring ballerina. Lost a kind father, who was also a great cook, and a loving mother that enjoyed sewing and other types of handicraft art. Lost a math teacher and a child that wanted to become one.

People think Israel is testing new weapons on them. There's civilians arriving at the hospital with severe burns, which they thought was from white phosphorus, but apparently the pattern is different from the one caused by white phosphorus. It's widely believed Israel tests weapons in Palestinians.

They've ran out of drinkable water and the "aid" Biden sent was only for the South of Gaza and no fuel, for hospitals, was allowed in. Many shelves in the supermarket are empty. She said many are convinced that if they don't die from the bombing, they'll die from starvation or dehydration, or whatever disease will develop from the dirty water they're drinking.

Told me all people do now is pray, cry and die. Told me she hopes West Bank is spared. Told her Israel bombed a mosque in West Bank and dozens of Palestinians in West Bank are being murdered by settlers, so she bided me goodbye.

A journalist stationed at a Gaza hospital who has been able to make a call via his Turkish sim:

"We’re in Al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital. We have no idea what’s happening. There’s no connection, no Wi-Fi, no reporters. We’re cut off from everything.. People can’t call ambulances or civil defense. We are being bombed in an unprecedented manner. The sky around us just lights up [with explosions], and no one knows what’s going on. You can’t reach anyone, even if they’re only 500 meters away. Ambulances and medics are begging reporters to let them know which streets are getting bombarded to go rescue the victims but the reporters themselves don’t know where anything is happening [because of the connection loss]. We are trying to report the news but we have no idea what’s happening.”

Massive fuck you to everyone who is talking about Palestinians as if we’re already all dead and sharing more solidarity with our corpses than us living. “We will never forget the beautiful Palestinian people-“ how about you stop “making peace” with Palestinian extermination. My people are not going to be forgotten because we are going to live. Palestinians have already survived one genocide and have been surviving one ever since.

Do not ever let the idea that all Palestinians are going to die exist in your mind. Mourn the dead, fight like hell for the living.