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20 cutee summer prompts for couples:

(feel free to use! req by @stasyalovem tag me when u all writeee<33) (listen to espresso by sabrina while reading this kekeke)

beach dates!!

^ tackling and splashing water at one another at the beachhh

going on picnic dates (me when kekeke)

wearing sun-dresses and your partner absolutely can't get enough of it. ♡

cycling at sunset togetherrrr

dancing around a bonfire <3

laying on their chest while watching the sunriseee (honestly, manifesting this for me n mr. japan in the future)

laying in bed all dayyy together with fans on

going out to get ice-cream at 2 am (this has got to be a love language)

barbecuing / grilling meat togetherrr

when one loves to cuddle and the other hates feeling sticky

unwinding by swimming together at night (tsitp vibes ikik)

"i know the weather is hot, but you're so much hotter, babe" ".... why did you have to be so cringe--"

when they wear tank-tops while doing manly labor and you're just there admiring the sight :)) omw to ask mr. japan to do this and seduce me haha..

accidentally going to a horrendous summer party and finding each other and going, "we gotta get outta this!"

^ "should i fake collapse? u do cpr then lift me, then we'll make it to our car!"

"why won't you hug meee?" "sweetheart, i love you, but you're sweaty and disgusting!!" "ok then join the club, let's be sweaty and disgusting togeth-" *gets smacked on the face by a thrown pillow*

watching movies all night longgg

sprawling on the floor like a starfish in the middle of the living room with all fans at high speed

summer person x winter person- "ahhh i love the sun, my god, look at the sky, it's beautiful-" "*mimics* my god, look at the sky, it's-- my ass. i hate this. ahhh, i hate this."

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Date someone who naturally brings out your inner child, makes you laugh, never stops flirting with you, and loves you a little extra on the days you don't feel so loveable.

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Living his best life

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Beauty is simply reality seen with the eyes of love.

-- Rabindranath Tagore

(Bucharest, Romania)

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Jane Austen would've loved Ao3

Rabindranath Tagore would've loved Tumblr

Agatha Christie would've loved true crime podcasts

Leonardo Da Vinci would've loved drones

Vincent Van Gogh would've loved Procreate

Cleopatra would-be loved Vlogging and Makeup videos on YouTube

Shakespeare would've loved roasting people on Twitter

Benjamin Franklin would've loved memes

Nikola Tesla would've loved WiFi and would binge watch cat videos

Franz kafka would've loved blogging

Socrates would've loved TED talks

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"if tumblr dies you can find me on bluesky" "if tumblr dies you can find me on Instagram" if tumblr dies you cannot find me. It's over. I'm free.

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Start journaling and blogging and start living your life. You're the Main Character

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gonna take a hot shower and put on a big t shirt and my undies and i’m gonna sit on the floor and color at my coffee table like im 6 years old again and then i’ll feel better

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Red String

There's this countdown ticking—911 days,

I whisper breathe, please.

There's water,

There's soil,

There are bones.

What is a name?

What are you without one?

It rained yesterday, and before I could shut the windows to prevent the bed from getting damp,

my mind had already run to you—

Are you out there, alone?

Are you cold?

Can I hug you?

There's a smile I like, one that comes to mind frequently.

A shield, actually. A guard for the tender joy within.

It dilly-dallies along a path that leads straight through huge trees along the side that bow down to greet and smile,

A one-point perspective sort of thing.

My father's voice rings down that path.

He's a man with a vessel lodged on his head—

Not a crown, not a hat, simply a greenhouse of anger,

Getting warmer and warmer until everything in it wilts.

He knows the name.

I hope seven summers from now he still recalls it.

I hope he learns to love it.

There is a little girl with stars in her eyes.

I like think of her hair as “কেশ”—

Not strands, but poetry.

She has hands I’ve held while crossing busy streets,

She has a nose that liked how the dish I made smelt,

She has lips that curl upward when she sees me.

She has a heart.

It pumps blood.

It keeps her alive.

But it does not make space for me.

There’s this woman—

Pointing her finger at another woman.

Her daughter.

And I think of Hosseini—how some men are so disgustingly strong,

They turn woman against woman,

Mother against daughter.

Like a compass needle that always points north,

Their accusations always find a woman to blame.

A finger, sharp like a needle,

A meter away and still, it pricks—

Right through your vocal cords.

No sound comes out.

Can you breathe now, ma?

I took a stand for you.

I always will, always.

Your teachings will never go to waste.

There’s a memory lodged in the corner of my skull,

Painted in the colour of summer,

Tasting faintly a lot like love,

Feeling like the soft brush of a falling leaf,

And echoing—

With the sound of two heartbeats.

Two heartbeats, out of sync—

lub-dub        lub-dub

Echoing across ribcage rooms,

Reaching—slowly,

Step by step,

Pulse by pulse,

Until—

lub-dub—lub-dub

Becomes

lubdub

One breath.

One rhythm.

One love.

lub-dub      lub-dub

lub-dub—lub-dub

lubdub

lubdub

lubdub.

And then I see a butterfly,

And I know,

Somehow,

Everything will be okay.

She's here.

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😭🤞🏻

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i want to be beautiful.

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the feminine urge to say, 'to be continued,' and get out of this labyrinth of suffering STRAIGHT AND FAST

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Nikos Kazantzakis, from a letter featured in The Selected Letters of Nikos Kazantzakis

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Hota hai,

Chalta hai,

Zindagi hai,

Jeena hai.

-Siddique

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Today's children don't know what it was like when half of your photographs would turn out with demonically glowing red eyes.